All of this Incandescence
by bird police
Summary: Beatrice falls into the Doctor Who universe abruptly and without warning. Everything is awful. Nothing goes to plan. (previously named Apidae)
1. Still Haven't Found My Berries

disclaimer: i own nothing except my original characters and content, everything else is for fun

* * *

Beatrice was cold.

Really, _really_ cold. It permeated her body to the bone, dug deep and made sleep impossible. It was too uncomfortable to stay unconscious.

It was dark. Beatrice was surrounded by corn stalks. She didn't remember how she got there. She didn't remember much of anything, really. Last thing she remembered she was at home, drying her hair after a shower. It was… winter, maybe.

It was not winter in the cornfield. It was cold, but there was no snow, and the stalks were still tall and unharvested. Fall, maybe?

Beatrice tucked her hands under her armpits and shivered, looking around. She was sitting on the ground in the middle of what appeared to be a _crop circle_ , of all things. The ground was covered in trampled stalks, wet with rainwater, which soaked through Beatrice's leggings.

A cricket jumped to Beatrice's right, and she flinched.

Wait, why was she wearing leggings? And… a _dress_ , of all things, partnered with nice boots and a too-thin-for-her-liking jacket. The chain of a necklace was like ice against her neck.

Beatrice looked like she was ready for a date, not…

...well, not for sleeping in the middle of a cornfield, of all things.

And _God_ did her head _hurt_! It hurt to look at anything, or blink, and when Beatrice pressed her finger to the bridge of her nose she could feel a vein throbbing. What, had she been drinking or something? That could be a possibility. You know, if she drank at all. Or did any kind of drugs. Which she didn't.

Shit.

Beatrice shakily stood to her feet, tried to get some feeling back into her toes by wiggling them a little. It didn't help.

The stars were impossibly white, and they hurt Beatrice's eyes. She looked away.

Instead, she picked a direction and started to walk.

* * *

It was dawn before Beatrice found a road.

It was dirt, well worn with tractor lines, but… it was something. Beatrice could barely keep her eyes open, barely take another step. Her stomach grumbled indignantly.

She was tired and distressed, and she just… she just needed to…

A fence. Beyond that, cows.

Beatrice, much to her regret, started to cry.

It was another mammal! It was another living breathing mammal, holy shit! The relief she felt from seeing another mammal, even if it was only a cow, was immeasurable. She was half afraid the only other lifeform she would ever meet was more corn.

A concerned voice called to Beatrice, "Miss? Miss, are you alright?"

She turned. There, next to a large and muddy green tractor, was an older man in overalls, hair wispy and greying. He was looking at her with concern, one hand holding tight to the collar of a well-behaved beagle. The beagle whined but was otherwise silent.

"Miss?" The old man repeated once more.

If she'd been relieved by the cows, she couldn't describe what she felt about seeing another human. Her body kind of tingled, actually, the feeling traveling up the back of her neck.

Beatrice swayed, and managed to choke out, " _Help._ "

The man and the tractor and the dog faded out at the end of a long tunnel.

Beatrice had fainted.

* * *

Most of the time, people had no idea what to do when Beatrice passed out.

To be fair, the man with the tractor was pretty justified in calling an ambulance. Beatrice had looked like hell, and she felt like she'd been through worse. Still, when she woke up being wheeled into a hospital on a gurney, she was a little miffed.

Beatrice had tried to tell the paramedics that she was fine, it was all a pre-existing health condition, whatever, but they didn't listen to her.

 _Dehydrated_ , they said. _Suffering from exposure_ , they said.

Still. Beatrice sure wasn't paying the ambulance bill.

She was lying reclined in a hospital bed, picking absentmindedly at the IV in her arm and stewing when two police entered the room.

When Beatrice had told them she was northeastern Ohio, they hadn't been thrilled. But it was only then, in the hospital room with the two police, that Beatrice discovered why.

She was in _Kansas_.

Fucking. _Kansas_!

Beatrice didn't think she'd ever been to Kansas. Why would she ever go to Kansas? To Kansas City, maybe? Kansas City wasn't even in Kansas, it was in Missouri or some shit!

Beatrice became overwhelmed and started to cry, much to the frustration of the police. She couldn't tell them anything they wanted to know. She didn't have an ID of any sort on her, either. Beatrice showed them her phone, but they treated it… weirdly. Like they'd never seen a smartphone before, or something. Didn't help that it was dead, either.

Beatrice couldn't tell the police anything about how she got there, or what she had been doing, or why.

They had a nurse come in and test Beatrice for drug or alcohol usage, but everything came back negative.

It was like she had been kidnapped by aliens.

Or maybe just kidnapped.

The worst part was perhaps when the police called Beatrice's parents. The number was disconnected, was what the police said. She gave them her home phone, her father's phone, her mother's phone— all the numbers she could remember, but it didn't matter. Everything was disconnected.

It was almost as if Beatrice was on another planet.

But that wasn't the case. Things— things _looked_ the same, for the most part. The hospital carried the same awful smell of antiseptic, the machines all beeped in the same annoying manner. Police still couldn't do shit, as was evident from how they didn't know how to handle Beatrice.

The police decided to call in the specialists.

It took mere hours for them to converge on the hospital.

Beatrice jerked awake to the sound of raised voices and hurried footsteps. From the view the window gave her, Beatrice couldn't see much, but if she craned her head and bent left, just slightly, she could see a multitude of army vehicles in the parking lot.

Beatrice was filled with a sudden anxiety.

She figured she should run somewhere, grab her clothes from the closet and hide, just try and hitchhike back home, but she couldn't. Her head still hurt and didn't have the guts to rip the IV from her arm, and before she knew it someone new entered the room.

It was a woman wearing an impeccably kept suit and a severe look.

"Beatrice Ridley. I'm Rachel Baker, Director of the UNIT American branch, a branch of the United Nations." Baker said, and Beatrice laughed.

And immediately stopped when Baker didn't laugh with her.

"You… I'm… excuse me?" Beatrice replied, face slack.

"We need you to be truthful with us, Miss Ridley." Baker continued, completely uncaring as to how Beatrice was losing her _fucking mind_.

UNIT. As in… UNIT, like, from Doctor Who? Yeah, okay.

Except Rachel Baker, Director of the UNIT American branch, was not joking. She did not look like the joking type.

"Miss Ridley." The older woman said, straight-faced and firm, "We need you to tell us the truth."

"I don't— I _have_ been telling the truth!" Beatrice said, voice warbling in desperation. Nothing about this situation made any sense.

"Your story doesn't add up, Miss Ridley." Baker squinted at her, "There isn't any evidence of a kidnapping, nor is there any trail of your journey here."

 _What the fuck_?

"Not to mention," Baker continued, sounding more and more like she was criticizing Beatrice, "There are no records of a Beatrice Ridley from Northeast Ohio. It's as if you don't exist."

What?

No.

This wasn't right. It wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

"There's something about you that doesn't make sense," Baker said, but Beatrice had already half tuned her out.

This wasn't real. Beatrice had finally lost it, that was what happened. Genetics had really fucked her up this time! She was hallucinating, _big time_ , going out like her great-grandmother had. Her medication was messed up, or something, and Beatrice was probably having a stroke, or… or…

"Miss Ridley?" Baker asked.

Beatrice shook her head, "Sorry." She placed both hands over her ears and held tight. Closed her eyes, drew her knees up and rested her head on them.

Where were her parents? Where was _anybody_? Was she completely alone in this?

* * *

They left her alone after a while, even though they really didn't. Beatrice could still see the UNIT soldiers that stood guard outside her door, clad in all black with riot gear and _big_ guns. Beatrice didn't like to look at them for too long. Instead, she turned towards the window, watched the clouds slowly move by.

She was still being kept for observation, just until the morning, until the hospital was sure she would be alright. After that, she would be released into UNIT's care.

Only she would definitely have to escape before that.

Beatrice just wasn't sure _how_. Guards change shifts, don't they? Maybe Beatrice could slip out during a shift change, run down the hallway and out of sight. If that didn't work, maybe she could slip out the vents, or the window? Maybe in the laundry chute?

She just… Beatrice just really needed to find her parents. She needed real help. Everything else would come with time.

Under the cover of night, Beatrice bunched up a blanket and stuffed it into her mouth, as much as she could fit. She _needed_ to take out the IV. She _knew_ this wasn't how it was supposed to be done, but…. Shit, she needed it out!

Beatrice bit down and yanked on the IV as hard as she could.

Immediately, blood spurted from the wound and trickled down her arm. Beatrice groaned into the blanket, bending into herself as she tried not to yelp in pain. Shit, it was still bleeding, what should she do?

Through blurry eyes, Beatrice wrapped her arm in the white hospital bed sheet. Gauze, was there any gauze in her room?

But shit, what if she opened a drawer and it squeaked and the guards knew she was awake?

No, whatever, it was fine, she'd been through worse pain. Beatrice was bitten by a swan when she was five, this pain was nothing!

...Was what she told herself as she bit her lip and shuffled over to the closet, blinking away tears. Oh God, this had been a mistake.

Beatrice struggled into her leggings, then shucked off the annoying hospital gown, arm throbbing all the while. She'd occasionally dab at it with the blanket, but she moved swiftly. Dress next, then jacket. She didn't put her boots on, though— she definitely needed to sneak around, and her boots zipper tended to make an annoying tinkling noise Beatrice couldn't silence. Instead, she held them gently with her good arm while she cradled her bad one to her chest. She'd nabbed some toilet paper from the attached room and wrapped it around the wound, just so it wouldn't stain her jacket.

...It was a nice jacket, alright? She'd got it on sale at Nordstrom Rack, don't judge her.

There was a thud from the hallway, and Beatrice froze. Her heart raced.

One of the guards spoke up from the doorway. He yelled, "Halt! This is a restricted area, who are you?" The voice moved a little to the right— the guard was walking away.

Beatrice darted out the doorway of her hospital room, slid into the hallway because of her socks. The other guard sputtered, "Hey!"

Oh shit!

The only lighting in the hallway came from the multicolored lights from humming machines and computer screens, so Beatrice couldn't be sure, _but_. There was something _not right_ off to the right. The first guard was standing before it, but he turned to look at Beatrice, moving his arm as if in slow motion as if to warn her—

Beatrice saw sharp teeth, then red. A scream got caught in her throat. The guard's body fell with a thud, head rolling, innards exposed. The computer lights reflected off the blood pooling on the linoleum floor.

The second guard, the _only guard left_ , immediately raised his gun at the thing that had killed his coworker.

"Stay behind me!" He shouted at Beatrice and pushed her backward.

The— the thing with the teeth, the incredibly sharp and white teeth, advanced. It was fuzzy, Beatrice couldn't get a good look at it, like it was smudged from reality, somehow. Like a smudgy pencil drawing.

Then it hissed, and every instinct Beatrice had screamed at her to run.

She turned and fled into the darkness, _really_ wishing she had put on her boots since she really wasn't doing much sneaking _now_ , was she?

There was a scream of pain from behind her, and Beatrice ran faster.


	2. Mummified In Fruit Rollups

i have most of the story written/outlined, so the update schedule is mostly depending on the rest of my life.

this story is half for fun and half b/c a bunch of the oc fics on this site make me... frustrated. like, ok, i GET that it would be cool as hell to meet the doctor, but who the heck is well balanced enough to handle that properly? i'm a hot mess even without a bunch of alien misadventures!

please let me know if i get characterization right, it's so hard to write the eleventh doctor for some reason.

disclaimer: i own nothing! i'm broke.

* * *

Why did all hospitals have to look like the same endless labyrinth? Beatrice had taken so many twists and turns in an effort to escape that she didn't know _where_ she was.

Not that it _worked_ , you know, which is why she was hiding in someone's office.

It was a pretty nice office, to boot. The one wall was entirely made of glass and gave whoever owned the office a wonderful view of the winding road leading up to the building. Beatrice pushed a chair aside and huddled under the giant wooden desk sitting in the center of the room. She clutched her boots close to her chest and tried to still her ragged breathing.

The monster was still somewhere close— animalistic clicks and grunts carried ominously closer to Beatrice's location.

What _was_ it? It was like something Beatrice would write about for fun, some horrible monster from the dawn of time, the kind that humankind only remembered in nightmares. This thing looked like it hung out with Cthulhu in its free time.

Oh God, what if it was Cthulhu?

But no. No. It _couldn't_ be. Besides, Cthulhu had, like, tentacles and shit. This thing had… well, Beatrice wasn't really sure, but it definitely had teeth.

 _Big_ teeth. Big, _sharp_ teeth.

If this was a hallucination, would it still kill her? Or was it real, and she was just too much of an idiot to grasp its existence even when it was right in front of her eyes?

A long growl came from the doorway to the office. Beatrice realized, extremely belatedly, that she should have closed the door behind her.

She didn't _dare_ breathe. If she did it too loudly, it would hear her. Beatrice could see it now, too, reflected in the window before them. It towered over her hiding place and its presence seemed to fill the room completely. A fine row of teeth cut cleanly across the darkness.

It didn't have any eyes, but…

But Beatrice could feel it _watching her_.

The window. It could see her in the window, just like she could see it. She should have pulled the chair back to hide, how dumb _was_ she!

Beatrice's reflection sat with wide, terrified eyes. She was trapped. The monster was too big, there wasn't any room to escape.

But oh God, the teeth. Its teeth were so sharp and its mouth so large that it wouldn't have any problem biting through her bones and pulling her skin off as she screamed herself hoarse. Her soft, supple skin. She'd probably taste like a fucking marshmallow to this thing, there was nowhere else to run, _ohgodshewasgonnadie_ —

Miraculously, someone else spoke from the hallway.

"Whoa- _ho!"_ They exclaimed, in a weirdly familiar British accent, making the monster jerk backward to look off to the side.

Beatrice's thoughts raced. British? What was a British person doing in Kansas? Why did it feel familiar? Did she really recognize it, or did it just sound like someone else's accent she'd heard before, and she didn't have the skill to really differentiate between the two?

The monster receded with a snarl and shot off down the hallway.

A beat, then two.

Beatrice couldn't believe her luck. She really, really couldn't. But like hell was she going to miss this opportunity, so she immediately threw her boots to the side, balled her socks in one hand, and sprinted the opposite direction of the danger.

She just needed to find a way out! Any way out, or even a way off the _floor_ , for goodness sake!

The labyrinth was endless, everything merged into one, everything looked the _same_!

No, there! Red lights, all caps— EXIT!

"Look out!" The British man shouted from behind her.

Beatrice span, saw the blurry mass of shadows and sharp teeth barreling towards her, and froze up like a deer about to be hit by a truck.

Then—

Someone yanked her into a room off to the side. Beatrice's head swam, she didn't know where she was for a second.

Director Baker was talking to her, "Where were the men who were guarding you, what happened to them?"

Beatrice blinked.

She was in the back of a small waiting room, surrounded by multiple heavily armed UNIT soldiers, as well as the imposing form of Director Baker. The older woman was holding onto one of her arms and looking at Beatrice with a furrowed brow.

"What happened?" Baker repeated, shaking Beatrice slightly.

"I don't—" Beatrice glanced back at the door, "They're dead, the thing—"

Baker swore under her breath. She ordered her men, "Do _not_ let anything through that door!"

"Wait!" Beatrice cried, "There was someone else out there!"

"They're dead," Baker stated.

Beatrice covered her mouth with both hands, too horrified to say anything else. That thing, it— it wasn't _normal_ , if it broke in, she didn't think guns could stop it.

Why was this even _happening_?

Silence. Beatrice felt like her heartbeat was the loudest thing in the room.

The door burst open and the soldiers shouted to STOP, KEEP BACK, but it was a man, not a monster who had entered, waving his arms about wildly in the air.

"It's me, it's me, don't shoot!" The man shouted with the same British accent as before, and Baker groaned.

"Let him in," She said.

The UNIT men lowered their guns and the British man walked into the room, but Beatrice _must_ have still been hallucinating. She must've, because the man was wearing a tweed jacket and a bowtie and had the face of Matt Smith.

Basically, the Eleventh Doctor just walked into the room.

There was a monster roaming the halls of the hospital, so Beatrice really shouldn't have been surprised, but… seriously?

"Doctor." Baker monotonously offered in greeting as the Doctor spun and closed the door behind him.

"Rachel, lovely to see you again! I'd love to catch up, but there's a bit of an issue outside, no big deal, you know— just giant interdimensional monster." The Time Lord said, talking a mile a minute, "I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

"Not much," Baker answered in stride, "Showed up recently, killed a few of my men."

Why was Beatrice hallucinating the Doctor, of all people? Why not, like, someone from a show she'd watched more recently, or a movie? A young Harrison Ford, maybe? That would have been nice. And why specifically the Eleventh Doctor, the series was already deep into a season with Twelve.

"And you!" The Doctor said, and oh God he was looking at Beatrice, he was _talking to her_ , "Hello, I don't think we've met before, I'm the Doctor, and you are?"

What should she say, she should say something right? Instead of just staring with wide eyes? _Oh God she should say something_ —

"She showed up in a cornfield an hour from here, but doesn't exist in any world database," Baker answered for her while Beatrice was having an internal crisis, "We thought she was one of yours, another alien."

Beatrice gaped, "You thought I was an _alien_?"

The Doctor, quick as ever, reached into his breast pocket and took out his sonic screwdriver to give Beatrice a scan. The Time Lord drew it close to his face to look at something only he could see, "Nope, human, just like the rest of you." He said, but then his brow furrowed, "Wait, hang on. Where did you say you were from again?"

"I didn't?" Beatrice asked more than stated.

Something crashed about in the hallway and roared. Beatrice flinched.

The Doctor blanched, "Okay, we'll talk later, is there another way out of here?"

"No, we closed ourselves off in a room without any escape. Yes, of _course_ there's another way out of here." Baker responded, highly sarcastic. The Doctor looked affronted but ran with everyone else out the second door and into another hallway. There, at the end, was—

"Ah, that's where I put her!" the Doctor cried and made for the tall blue police box sitting there in all its glory, "Follow me, everyone!"

The TARDIS. Holy fucking shit, the TARDIS.

Was it real? No, probably not, why on earth would it be—

Another crash, the sound of splintering wood from behind them, and Beatrice bolted for the time machine without another thought. She hit the doors and entered an orange room with a large time rotor in the middle that hummed with energy.

Beatrice knew, she knew that the TARDIS was bigger on the inside, but she'd never actually thought about how that must mess with someone's mind. There was something about it that was wrong, something that just _didn't make sense_.

She ran for a box, entered the doors and _should've_ hit the other side almost immediately, but she didn't. Instead, she was standing in this massive space that was full of bits and bobs. It was like an optical illusion.

Her brain _hated it_.

But she didn't have time to worry.

Beatrice walked farther in and came to a stop at the bottom of the steps leading up to the console, where the Doctor was manically pulling various dials and switches. She craned her neck to look all the way up at the ceiling and wondered how the hell this was even possible.

"You're sure it can't get in here?" Baker addressed the Doctor, the woman finally moving away from the doors to join the Time Lord.

"Shouldn't," Beatrice mumbled, still in awe.

"She's right," The Doctor confirmed, "As long as none of your people touch anything they're not supposed to. I can _see that_!" He suddenly shouted, and a soldier fiddling with something on the lower levels skittered backward.

Beatrice blinked. How had he even known…?

"But what about the monster?" Baker asked.

"What about it?" The Doctor flippantly replied. He punched a lever forward, causing the TARDIS to shake. A familiar grinding noise filled the air.

"What do we do about it? How do we kill it?" Baker continued.

"Kill it! Don't be ridiculous, you can't _kill_ it, we don't even know what it is." The Doctor responded. The grinding stopped, and the Doctor leapt down the stairs and around into the underbelly of the console room, pushing around boxes and throwing things this way and that. "However, we _can_ trap it."

Beatrice turned to watch his movements with a cautious gaze, "How?"

"I hardly expect a giant net to work." Baker said, "It's not a squirrel, it can't be caught easily."

"That's why we're not going to use a net!" The Doctor responded and jumped up with a large tube that, really, in all actuality, could have come from the set of _Ghostbusters_. "Just put this in one place, chase the monster towards it, and remotely press the 'on' button. Do that, then you've got yourselves a monster."

Oh God, they were all going to die. Really, if Beatrice wasn't already in a coffin, _she would be soon_.

They all piled out of the TARDIS and onto a lower floor of the hospital, the light still ominously dimmed.

"Baker, you stay here, you and your people will just get in the way," The Doctor said, carrying the tube out, along with a long string of wiring. One end was plugged into the tube, and the other, Beatrice assumed, was connected to the TARDIS somehow.

"What should we expect?" Baker asked, cautiously.

"Nothing you probably haven't seen before," The Doctor responded, "But _you_ , come with me." And he dropped a large pile of cables into Beatrice's arms, much to her surprise.

"What?" Beatrice squeaked.

"Come along, quickly now!" The Time Lord said, and once again holding the ghostbusters tube ran off down the hallway. Beatrice was dragged along whether she wanted to follow or not.

That part about the coffin? That was looking less and less like a joke.

* * *

every review adds 10 years to my lifespan!


	3. I Coulda Dropped My Croissant

i should probably mention that all of the chapter titles are vine references. just because i mean, like... why not.

disclaimer: i have achy joints and no ownership rights over doctor who! seriously, my joints hurt. why did i choose to go to school in the midwest. i thought you weren't supposed to get achy joints until you were like 50.

* * *

They didn't go very far. The Doctor eventually stopped in the middle of a large reception area, setting the ghostbusters tube down with a clank.

"Okay, here we go," He hummed, and began to fiddle with what looked to be a control panel at the top.

Beatrice took the time to lay out the remaining cables off to the side, figuring that someone could trip over them if she just left them in a big pile. To be fair, the only other person with Beatrice was the Doctor, and _he_ was probably a hallucination, but… well, she should be considerate, all the same.

The hospital really was deserted. It was quiet, all for the unsettling stomping noises from the floor above them. Who knows what would have happened if the building was full of regular patients.

Wait, but… this was Kansas, not the edge of the world. Where _was_ everybody?

"Where did everyone else go?" Beatrice asked the Doctor, "The other patients and nurses, I mean. Where's the night shift?"

"Oh, they were evacuated a while ago, don't worry." The Doctor waved a hand in a blasé manner. The control panel he was working with lit up a light blue. Beatrice goggled at the twinkling lights, but the Doctor didn't seem that impressed by it (and why would he be? He had a time machine; a bunch of lights probably wasn't that big of a deal to him).

"What was your name, again?" He asked her from his position squatted by the tube.

"Beatrice." She responded, and cautiously edged closer.

"Aah, Beatrice from the cornfield." The Doctor hummed, "That's where they found you, wasn't it?" He soniced the tube, and something started to hum lightly. This seemed to please him.

"I mean—" Beatrice scratched the back of her head awkwardly, "No, they found me on the edge. By a road, I think? I woke up in the field, though."

"Strange place for a girl to be hanging out, don't you think? How'd you end up there?"

"Um." Beatrice shuffled uncomfortably, the cold floor seeping in through her feet, "I have no idea."

The Doctor turned to look at her, face serious, and Beatrice sucked in a breath with surprise. His eyes. They were _old_.

Like, alright, everyone always _says_ that just like they say the TARDIS is bigger on the inside, but… The Doctor's eyes were _old_ , and it made Beatrice feel helpless beyond measure. They were the oldest things she had ever seen, the Doctor's eyes.

A shiver ran down her spine. Beatrice didn't know what to say.

She just felt _so_. Tired.

"I— I need—" Beatrice looked away from him, then looked back, then looked away again.

Everything about this situation was awful and her arm was starting to hurt again. There was a monster above them. Beatrice was probably standing across from an alien. She felt horrible. She just wanted to go home. She needed a hug.

"C-Cavefish," Beatrice blurted out.

The Doctor frowned, "Cavefish?"

"Yeah!" She nodded fervently, "The thing the— the monster, it's a cavefish, it doesn't have any eyes but a mouth."

"Oh, a _cavefish_!" The Doctor's face lit up with realization, "I suppose it is, isn't it? This one's definitely sharper, though."

"And bigger." Beatrice added, "Unfortunately."

"Right." He frowned, looking back at the glowing tube before him, "It makes sense, saying where it might have come from. Who needs eyes in the dark? _I_ certainly wouldn't."

A rumble from above, like something had fallen. The Doctor leaped to his feet and clasped his hands together with a flourish.

"Alright then! Here we go," He pointed at Beatrice, "Hide behind that desk over there and stay put. I mean it! Even I don't know what that thing is capable of, so we have to be careful."

Beatrice nodded, even though she was 99% sure that the Doctor had never been careful in his life.

But he seemed satisfied with that, answer because he ran off to look for trouble, and Beatrice went to the desk behind her.

It was definitely big enough, she noticed as she ducked down. It took up a majority of the reception area and was shaped like an L, with the crook facing outward towards the hallway. Thus: the perfect hospital hiding spot.

At least, Beatrice hoped it was. If it wasn't, then her day was probably about to get a lot worse.

The noises from above were getting more and more worrisome. The monster wasn't heavy enough to break through the floor, right? With all the stomping and clomping and jumping around it was doing, it sure was testing its luck.

Wait, did it even have feet? Beatrice didn't remember seeing any.

Then, very distinctly, something changed. The monster sounded like it was moving down the hall. There was the crash of a stairwell door opening, followed by the Doctor shouting, " _Follow me I'm tasty!_ "

The Time Lord flew by the desk Beatrice was hiding behind, only to skid to a stop awhile past the ghostbusters tube.

A screech from the monster shook Beatrice to the bone.

There was a very audible click, an " _Aha_!" from the Doctor, then a low whirring noise that _must_ have been from the tube.

Nothing happened.

 _Holy fuck, nothing happened._

Beatrice noiselessly turned her head to glance up over the top of the desk. She didn't know what she expected to see. She didn't know what made her turn, exactly. Probably the same thing that made people in horror movies investigate strange noises.

But Beatrice looked up and was faced with a living shadow.

It was made out of darkness. No, that wasn't right. It was like… like a smudged pencil drawing, just a giant blurry charcoal colored mass. It moved slowly, flickering back and forth, almost as if the monster was _breathing_. It smelled familiar, for some reason. Like something she'd forgotten. Something humans had forgotten as a whole.

The shadows moved, and the row of sharp teeth came into view— _it was looking at her_.

Beatrice didn't move. She couldn't.

Could it even see her properly, or did it just detect movement? Did it use echolocation, like a bat?

Why wasn't it attacking her? Why was it just standing there?

 _It wasn't doing anything, why wasn't it doing anything_?

Then the tube let out a bright pulse made of pure energy, and the monster flinched and snarled. It tried to retreat, move backward, but it was pulled in by the light like hair being pulled down the drain of a bathtub. The monster got pulled into the machine, and a light on top flickered from blue to green.

Beatrice could, thankfully, breathe again. She stood on shaky feet and leaned heavily on the desk before her.

Not dead yet, at least.

(But why didn't the monster attack her? Both Beatrice, as well as the Time Lord standing in the room with her, was very, very worried indeed)


	4. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN THAT YOUR ACTIONS HA

i spent so much time worrying about the next story arc that i uuuuuuuh forgot to edit this one? also it's midterms week and i've died like 7 times already

* * *

Doctor was 90% sure that Director Rachel Baker did not like him. It was entirely possible that she didn't like _anyone_.

"You're just going to take a hostile alien into your custody?" Baker asked the Time Lord, her voice dripping with venom.

"Yes." The Doctor responded, rather miffed. "You think I'd let you lot take it? No, of course not." He'd have left _ages_ ago, had it not been for Baker's insistent whining. Places to go, people to meet. Besides, the Doctor really needed to look into that girl, Beatrice.

Baker continued, "There are proper protocols—"

"Which I will follow once I'm completely sure they will not be abused on your end." The Doctor interrupted her, voice raised. "Feel free to ring me up when that time comes."

Baker glared at him, "But the girl, what of her?"

"She'll be coming with me." The Doctor said and glanced down the now well-lit hallway. Beatrice was awkwardly leaning against one wall, eyeing the unit personnel around her suspiciously. She looked tired, but after everything that had happened, the Doctor didn't blame her. He looked back at Baker, and lowered his voice, "If it turns out to be nothing, I'll drop her back home nice and safe. If you don't like that, you're just going to have to deal with it."

Baker bristled, nostrils flared, but the Doctor cut her off by turning and thumping the side of his TARDIS with finality, "Beatrice!"

The girl in question startled but nonetheless approached when the Doctor beckoned. The Doctor couldn't quite place the look she gave him, however— like she was constantly surprised to see him standing there.

"What do you say I take you for a spin in the TARDIS here, see if we can't find out what happened to you?' The Doctor offered with a grin, and the girl's eyes lit up.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, before reigning herself in and repeating, much calmer, "Yes, please."

"You can't just—" Baker started with venom and reached out to stop the girl from entering the time machine, but the Doctor stepped between the two with a sharp look.

"We'll see you later, Director."

"You most certainly will _not_ —"

The Doctor closed the TARDIS doors and strode quickly to the center console. Beatrice cautiously approached as well, silent all for the quiet tinkling noise her boots made (she'd made a point to recover them, said they had been a gift. The Doctor wondered from who).

"You know," The Time Lord began as he set to send the ship floating safely in the time vortex, "You seem pretty relaxed about the whole bigger on the inside thing. People usually spend a little more time to take it in."

"Oh," Beatrice laughed nervously, "I'm pretty sure I'm hallucinating."

The Doctor started, turning to look at the young human next to him with a critical eye. It didn't appear that she was joking.

The girl saw the look the alien was giving her and looked away nervously, fidgeting. "I mean—" The girl covered her mouth with one hand, mumbled, "Shit."

"Okay…" The Doctor said slowly, "Let's take a step back. How about we go to my sickbay, do a few tests to make sure you're shipshape, hmm?"

"I tend not to do, um, well with medical tests," Beatrice replied, frowning. Her hand had been moved away from her mouth, however, drawn to the back of her neck. If the girl tensed anymore, she might climb into herself.

The Doctor laughed, "Oh, it'll be fine, just a couple of scans, nothing serious."

"No needles?" The girl questioned, suspicious.

"Cross my hearts." The Doctor replied.

Beatrice did not blink twice at his implication.

* * *

The sickbay had more high tech medical equipment than Beatrice had seen in her entire life.

Beyond a smooth door bearing a green crescent moon was a room with multiple exam beds interspersed with… well, Beatrice didn't know what they were, but they were large, shiny, and expensive. One kind of looked like an x-ray machine— if, you know, an x-ray machine had robotic arms and a hair straightener.

The Doctor waved towards multiple exam beds while he began to rifle through the cupboards off to the left.

"Hop right up so the TARDIS can run a few diagnostic scans. Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit." He said.

The beds were weird, as well. They _looked_ like the regular exam tables her practitioner had, all cushy and easily adjustable, but there wasn't a white sheet of paper anywhere to be seen on top. It felt weird to hop up onto one and not make any crinkling noises.

A screen lit up on the wall as soon as Beatrice settled in. It was like something out of _Star_ Trek. Gallifreyan symbols whirled around at breakneck pace, along with a steady heartbeat monitor. Too bad Beatrice couldn't understand any of it.

Absentmindedly, she noticed how smooth the screen was. Wait… weren't you not supposed to be able to read a computer screen in a dream? The same probably went for a hallucination. So, why could Beatrice…?

She reached out slowly to tap the monitor. Suddenly, the Doctor suddenly manifested beside her and swatted away her hand. Beatrice jumped.

"Right, let's see—" The Doctor scrunched up his face in confusion as he read the scrolling Gallifreyan, "You're hurt? How are you hurt?"

"What? Oh!" Beatrice shrugged off her jacket to reveal the makeshift toilet paper bandage around her arm. She noticed with displeasure that blood soaked through at one point.

"How did that happen!" The Doctor asked with wide eyes, incredulous.

"Erm," Beatrice shrugged, "I might've… uh, ripped out an IV?"

The Doctor looked scandalized. He jumped back to grab a small instrument out of a drawer, shaking his head, "Humans! You always overreact when it comes to this."

"Sorry," Beatrice responded, sheepish.

"You didn't need to _yank it out_ , pulling gently would have been fine." The Doctor scolded her, walking back over with what looked to be a thick, green marker. He uncapped it and revealed what looked to be a miniature vacuum. When drawn gently over Beatrice's arm, the skin stretched and tingled, but both cut and dried blood disappeared.

 _HOLY SHIT THAT'S THE COOLEST THING SHE'S EVER SEEN!_

"I was originally in the area because of a flare of artron energy," The Doctor started to explain as he walked back to replace the marker, "My TARDIS picked up on it and led me right to our friendly neighborhood monster back there. I didn't expect to find someone else, as well, but you were probably both there for the same reason."

"...Which would be?" Beatrice asked hesitantly. She brushed a thumb over her healed skin—it felt like brand new. No scarring, even!

"It's likely that the both of you fell through a crack in space-time." The Doctor answered, "It's more common than you would think, surprisingly enough. I could _smell_ the artron on you."

Beatrice wrinkled up her nose, "Uh, rude."

"Oh, not like that." the Doctor rolled his eyes, "Honestly." He walked back over and pulled the screen on the wall towards him. He navigated the system with a practiced ease. To be fair, it _was_ all his stuff, so Beatrice shouldn't have been that surprised (story of her life).

But the Doctor really was an alien, wasn't he?

"What about void stuff?" Beatrice asked, scratching her nose.

The Doctor froze. He slowly turned to look at the girl before him with a critical eye. How did she know about void stuff?

"You're soaked through with it," The Doctor said casually.

Unsurprising— Beatrice had read about that sort of thing in fanfiction. It was impossible to travel between dimensions without passing through the space in-between. If Beatrice had traveled dimensions, it would make sense that she would have picked up some things along the way.

Not that she _did_ travel dimensions, just… you know.

She figured it was better to play along with the hallucinations, at least for the meantime. From what she'd read, hallucinations tended to get insulted told that they weren't real. Not her biggest problem, true, but Beatrice just figured it'd prevent other conflicts.

"There was also some minor head trauma, which might explain any gap in memories you're experiencing." The Doctor said.

Beatrice nodded— her head still had a dull ache to it, a faint reminder of a debilitating migraine from the day before. All the running and stress couldn't have helped.

Wait.

"What about the monster, though? What was it?" Beatrice asked.

"Ah," The Doctor turned and began to sort through medical tools on the countertop as he made his way towards a larger machine a few paces away, "A typical monster from the void, that was all. There's definitely more where it came from, but since I sealed up the rip in space, the hospital should be safe from any other attacks."

"That's good," Beatrice replied, stupidly relieved that it hadn't been Cthulhu. She fiddled with her jacket absentmindedly.

"It was… _oh_." The Doctor paused, tone dropping abruptly, and Beatrice's anxiety flared with a vengeance.

"What is it?" She asked.

The Doctor wrung his hands for a second, then stopped, rubbed the back of his head. "Nothing. Well, not nothing, but— it's fine. Don't worry about it." He was talking quickly again, almost too fast for Beatrice to keep up.

"Worry about what?" Beatrice asked.

"Nothing, it's fine."

" _Doctor_." Beatrice's voice cracked.

The Time Lord across from her turned and looked at her with sorrow. Beatrice suddenly couldn't breathe.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor said, "I didn't know, I wasn't thinking. When I sealed the rip the monster came from, I hadn't anticipated…"

 _Oh_.

"It was the only rip you could have come from, Beatrice." The Doctor continued, "You're stuck here. I'm sorry. I didn't know, I'm sorry."

A tingling feeling raced up Beatrice's arms and neck. It was the only thing she could feel. She didn't say anything— she couldn't.

She was trapped. Trapped in the hallucination, trapped in another dimension, _whatever_ , she wasn't sure, but…

Everything suddenly felt too real.

The Doctor was still talking, "There's no way to make another rip, not without risk to both of our universes. Once, maybe, but… It's not possible anymore. I'm— Beatrice?"

Beatrice was crying, probably. She wasn't sure, because she couldn't feel her face, but it seemed like the thing she would have done. All Beatrice was sure of was that everything was spinning horribly, and she couldn't breathe.

Her chest _hurt_. Something was wrong with her.

She tried to grip onto the side of the bed she was sitting on, but it didn't feel right. Her hands were screwed on backward, or something.

Oh God, she was dying. She was— everything was—

Once the world stopped spinning, just a little, Beatrice knew enough to realize that she was having a panic attack. It was weird, she'd never had a panic attack before.

The Doctor was there, he'd moved to sit beside her, rub comforting circles on her back.

"Sorry." Beatrice choked out.

"Shh, it's alright." The Doctor said, soothingly.

"No," Beatrice managed to continue, "'S not, 's my fault." She was dumb, she hadn't realized before. She was an idiot.

Beatrice's joints seemed to groan as she drew her hands into her lap and clasped them together. She dug her fingernails into the skin of her palms and willed her breathing to quiet.

"It's not your fault for being here." the Doctor told her.

Beatrice didn't respond. She wanted to say it was, it _was_ her fault, but… she didn't have any proof. She just felt that it was, in a way that she couldn't explain.

The Doctor gave the girl a one-armed hug, holding her close. They sat in silence.

"I just—" Beatrice bit her lip, "I'm just… tired."

"Alright." The Doctor replied, even though he ducked his head down and gave Beatrice that same piercing, critical look.

A beat, then two.

Beatrice fidgeted, "Is there— would there be someplace for me to sleep here? I can do it here, or—"

"No, the TARDIS will give you a room." The Doctor said, tone casual once again. He hopped from the hospital bed, and with a flourish, offered Beatrice his hand.

The Time Lord led her from the med bay and into the hallway. Though Beatrice tried to pay attention to the lefts and rights and multiple stairs that they took, she soon found herself horribly confused.

"How do you not get lost in here?" She asked.

"Well," The Doctor said, "You know what they say about practice and all that."

Beatrice didn't really believe him. The Doctor had to be receiving directions from the TARDIS, right? Maybe he had a map delivered directly into his brain. Or maybe he really had no idea how to get anywhere, and just guessed every time?

Regardless, the two eventually stopped in front of a plain wooden door that hung slightly ajar. The Doctor winked at Beatrice before he opened it, much to her amusement.

The room the TARDIS had given her smelled of home. Beatrice's home, more specifically. How had the ship even accomplished that?

It wasn't a replica of her room at home, but Beatrice didn't know how she would have reacted, had that been the case. There was a large four poster bed by one wall, covered in pillows and blankets of every kind, and lining the walls were numerous bookcases crammed chock full of books and knickknacks.

Everything had a warm, autumnal color scheme, even the rectangular window on the other wall— a large tree was visible, its leaves a beautiful gradient of reds and golds. It was drizzling outside slightly, as well, but Beatrice knew it couldn't be real. She was still on the TARDIS, still either hallucinating or trapped in another dimension. She didn't know which one was worse.

The Doctor, who had been admiring the room as well, turned to leave. "Come find me when you're fully rested!"

Beatrice turned to thank him, but the door closed before the words could leave her lips.

It was quiet.

Beatrice breathed deeply, standing still. This was the first time she'd been completely alone since the cornfield.

"...Fuck." Beatrice whispered to herself in the silence.

She wanted to do more. She wanted to scream, to cry, to start breaking things. She wanted to cause a problem. She wanted someone to help her. She _needed_ help. She didn't want to be there. She wanted her mom and dad, but they weren't there, so she wanted to shout and cause a fuss, so someone would notice, just to release the manic energy in her veins.

But she didn't. Instead, Beatrice gently draped her jacket over the back of a desk chair, then bent to unlace her boots. The carpet was plush, she noticed.

She didn't bother changing into anything else— she just flopped down onto the bed with a small _whump_.

She forgot to turn off the lights.

* * *

snick snack paddy whack give a dog a review?


	5. katrina? more like hurricane tortilla

djfhkjdfhajkshf I split up this next part b/c I felt bad about taking such a long break hahah (SPRING VACAY, YEET!)

I also had a long depressive episode wednesday where I very seriously declared to my mother that I was going to move out west and live in the mountains (because, you know, here in America we live in an awful capitalist society and in the end nothing matters, so _whats the point, im going to perform ancient forest rituals with my dirty little liberal hands and no one can stop me)._

I think I feel better now? Anyway here's wonderwall

* * *

She was in the cornfield again.

It was dark and wet. She tried to run, to leave, but the stalks were endless. Run for five minutes in one direction and end up back in the main clearing.

She was sure she was running in a straight path, she was _sure_ of it.

There were faces in the darkness. Turn her head too sharply and her mother would be standing there, her eyes big and sad. Beatrice's grandmother, as well, crouched in the mud and surrounded by soaking wet yarn.

"Bea." Her mother said when she popped up again, " _Bea_."

Her aunt was hiding being a corn stalk, "We can't see you, Honeybee." Her aunt didn't have a mouth. Space where it should have been being empty, smooth.

Her father was in the clearing when Beatrice made it back there. His face stretched, stretched to his knees, all the way until it dug into the earth.

"Run, Bea." He said, "We can't reach you."

Beatrice woke up.

For a moment she didn't know where she was; the room was bright and orange, and she was cold.

A beat, and then Beatrice's mind cleared. She was still in the TARDIS. Still in some weird mental breakdown, or… something.

Beatrice buried her face in a pillow and groaned.

Was it too much to ask to fall into a coma? Or at the very least, could she fall back asleep?

But no, the moment was gone, and Beatrice was unfortunately awake. She wiggled around the bed and pulled a blanket over her in attempt to create a cocoon, but nothing worked. She lay still.

Time passed. Beatrice stared at the wall and tried to clear her mind, but it was no use. She couldn't stop thinking about her parents.

Why had they been so sad in the dream? It was just a dream. Probably. No, definitely. Beatrice just didn't like seeing them like that.

When Beatrice finally dragged herself upright and stretched, her joints creaked ominously in protest. She shuffled into a connected bathroom and immediately regretted peeking at her reflection in the mirror—she looked _awful_. Her hair was an absolute mess, not to mention her bloodshot eyes. She felt gross.

There was a shower in the bathroom, set up with a quaint footed tub. She wondered if she was allowed to use the shampoo that was there for a second before she realized that she didn't care, and quickly undressed.

It was the first time Beatrice had washed her hair in, perhaps, decades? And when she was finished, she got to wrap herself in the fluffiest towels in _existence_. The cupboards were already stocked with everything she could need.

Beatrice grabbed a brush and set to untangling her messy brown hair. Ever methodical, she took a minute to work in silence. She was glad for the momentary distraction.

But when she brushed her teeth, Beatrice's mind wandered. She stopped to stare at herself in the mirror with a heavy gaze.

She still had freckles, still had acne. Beatrice held out her hand to examine. Still had stubby nails, still had the same little baby hairs on her knuckles.

Count the fingers: all there. Her thumb: the tiny scar at the bottom. Blood veins: still blue.

Okay. So, maybe not a hallucination. She wasn't dissociating. Beatrice knew enough that she could tell it wasn't that.

Which meant…

…something she didn't want to admit.

Beatrice spat out her toothpaste and rinsed, then wandered back into the bedroom with a purpose.

Since she'd already raided the bathroom, Beatrice figured she could wear the clothes she found in the dresser by the bed. She chose herself a pair of jeans and a plain yellow t-shirt. She put on her boots, as well, just as an afterthought. They were a reminder of home, from when life was familiar.

Beatrice figured she was as ready as she'd ever been. She just needed to leave the room. Just open the door and walk through, then navigate the halls to find the Doctor.

The Doctor that… _oh shit,_ she'd been treating him like a fake hallucination this entire time, hadn't she? Had she said anything incriminating? Anything suspicious?

Beatrice just wanted to go home! Which, to be fair, she maybe perhaps could not do anymore. Ever. (If this was real, which it just might be). At least she—

Wait. Her phone, where was her phone?

Beatrice hurried to the bed, haphazardly throwing the blankets and pillows to the floor. Nothing was there, nor in the bathroom where she'd left her dress in a heap on the floor. _Where was it_?

It was stuffed into a pocket of her jacket. Beatrice didn't remember putting it there, but her memory hadn't exactly been reliable the past few days, had it? Miraculously, the smartphone still had 48% battery.

But no service.

Beatrice fell into the chair, taking furious gulps of air as she abruptly burst into tears.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't _fair_.

Why was she even _there_? What, because she'd been a Doctor Who buff in middle school? She hardly remembered bits of it, so it wasn't like she had some upper hand. Beatrice wasn't like the girls in fanfics who fell into impossible worlds with near picture-perfect memory of future events. Beatrice didn't know her _own_ future, much less the future of a 900-year-old alien Time Lord.

God, what had she said the day before? Had it even been a day? How long had Beatrice been asleep? How long had she been in that cornfield? Was this a fever dream? Had she died?

Was she in _purgatory_?

Beatrice curled up into a ball on the desk chair and stayed like that for a while.

Rather detached, Beatrice noticed that it wasn't entirely silent. There was a hum in the background. It came in and out, undulating and gentle, as well as inexplicably comforting. It gave Beatrice the same feeling she got from the sound of rain or the noise of waves crashing on a beach at night. It had to be the TARDIS.

The ship was alive.

Wasn't _that_ a weird thought.

Deep breaths. Beatrice cleaned her face using one of the fluffy hand towels from the bathroom. It didn't _really_ look like she had been crying, but then again, she looked awful anyway, so did it really matter?

Beatrice slid her phone into her back pocket (more of a comfort item than anything) and finally gathered up the courage to leave the room.

* * *

It took a little while to find the console room again. Beatrice didn't remember how to get there, so she just wandered about aimlessly in hope that she would happen across it. After a ridiculous amount of time in which Beatrice found three separate gardens, a smithy, and a plane warehouse (with a massive two-decker plane, _for some reason_ ), she entered a random archway and found herself under the console.

Wait, but… they'd walked upstairs the night before, and Beatrice didn't remember walking back down?

Whatever, it wasn't the weirdest thing that had happened to her lately. Beatrice was still reeling a little from the plane she'd found (seriously, _why_ ).

Beatrice poked her head above the glass floor and finally found the Doctor. Though the lights of the room had been dimmed slightly, the Time Lord was reclined on one of the jump seats, reading a book. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a romance novel with a giant squid on the front.

…... _Okay_.

Beatrice cleared her throat, and the Doctor immediately perked up when he saw her.

"You're awake! How are you feeling?" He asked, good-natured.

"Uh, I dunno. I've been better?" Beatrice shrugged, but added as an afterthought, "Hungry, though."

"Oh, that's an easy fix!" The Doctor said, and tossed the book to the side, jumping to his feet. He began to operate the TARDIS with incredibly familiar motions, pressing nonsensical buttons and pulling random levers so that the overhead lights snapped back to attention and the main console hummed in anticipation.

Beatrice had once read a Tumblr post that claimed the eleventh Doctor piloted the time ship as if he were dancing. The post was right.

"How about we get some breakfast, hmm? Tea, some scones, whatever it is you Americans eat." The Doctor said casually.

"Yeah, sure." Beatrice hummed, looking up again to examine the time rotor.

"Any requests?"

"Mmm." She shook her head, "I don't think so."

"You don't think so? All of space and time and you don't _think so_?" The Doctor cried, bouncing over to look at Beatrice incredulously. The girl only laughed and shrugged.

The Doctor sobered, "Are you sure you're alright? We can get something to eat on the TARDIS if it's easier." He said.

"Hey," Beatrice shook her head, suddenly uncomfortable again, "I don't— It's fine, I don't want to talk about it."

It wasn't fine, but she didn't need to tell him that. Food would help, though, for sure. Abruptly, Beatrice was struck with a thought.

"Is there…" Beatrice wrinkled her nose and avoided the alien's gaze, sheepish, "Is there actually a restaurant at the end of the universe?"

The Doctor's face lit up with excitement.


	6. gimme that coffee

college is a trap! the wifi never works and the dining halls are all haunted!

disclaimer: i own nothing besides my original characters and storylines. also maybe like uuuuuh 20 bucks? pay for my silence.

* * *

The End of the Line Diner, as it was called, was for all intents and purposes a regular American diner. You know, except for the fact that it was in space.

"It used to be a normal waystation between planets, but you know how people like to build one thing on top of another," the Doctor explained as he lead Beatrice into the diner from the backroom he'd parked the TARDIS in, "People started to sell things out of their ships, but that was illegal, you see, so they added on a market above the port, then few restaurants on top of the market."

But the diner looked so _familiar_ to Beatrice, all the way from the pastel color booths to the roller skates every server was wearing. It was super weird, paired with the inky blackness of space that she could see out all of the windows.

"Table for two, please! And make it a booth." The Doctor enthusiastically told the androgynous green humanoid standing by a podium.

"Right away, sir." The alien responded and picked up a couple of menus with one of their four arms. Beatrice valiantly tried not to stare as they led them to a booth by the window. Instead, she looked at the stars.

There were a lot _._ Like….

A _lot_ of stars.

The Doctor began to excitedly flip through their menu, Beatrice following at a more relaxed pace. Again, everything was familiar to her. There was an entire section for omelets, for crying out loud! Everything was so… human-y, Beatrice didn't know how to take it.

"The founder was an American too, you know." The Doctor spoke up. At Beatrice's confused look, he continued, "The founder of the diner, he was American. Well—new American, to be exact. Fresh off a transport ship, found himself homesick and decided to build something that reminded him of home."

"He sure was successful," Beatrice responded.

Another green, four-armed alien skated up to their booth, this time holding a very generic pot of coffee.

"Welcome to the End of the Line Diner! I'm Glorf, I'll be your server today. Before I take your orders, may I interest either of you in a cup of coffee?"

Beatrice immediately perked up, "I'll have one."

Glorf filled a mug with dark, steaming coffee and took both of their orders. The Doctor got the 6-dish special, predictably, whereas Beatrice just ordered a plate of waffles. She was too preoccupied with pouring sugar into her coffee to notice when their server left.

"A fan of coffee?" The Doctor stated when Beatrice finally took a sip.

"Yeah, but I still like tea, too." Beatrice replied, a little flustered at the insinuation, "It's just… I dunno, it's just easier to get coffee sometimes."

"You're 18, aren't you?" The Doctor hummed.

"Mhm," Beatrice nodded, "I started drinking coffee in high school."

"Oh, now that's very American of you." The Doctor rolled his eyes dramatically.

"America runs on Dunkins." Beatrice said, matter o' fact.

"That it does." The Doctor agreed, cracking a smile. The two of them lapsed into a brief silence. Beatrice once again became entranced with the stars, and absentmindedly wondered how many of them the Doctor had visited.

"So," The Doctor spoke slowly, "I feel like you knew me before we first met."

Beatrice froze. What should she say? She can't just tell him he was a TV show character, he'd think she was nuts. Anyone would think she was nuts.

She took a deep breath, finally saying "...Yyyes."

It was quiet. Beatrice checked her peripheral vision without moving—the Doctor was giving her a knowing look like he was waiting for her to speak.

Shit.

"Um." Beatrice cleared her throat, grasping at straws, "I mean. It's weird."

"That's alright, I like weird." The Doctor said. The way he was acting was creeping Beatrice out, all of a sudden. The happy energy from before was gone, and in its place was something darker.

Okay. Okay. She could do this.

"You're a… story, where I'm from." Beatrice began, "You and— well, all of you, from your first— regeneration." She stumbled over that last word, afraid of how the Doctor would react to her extra knowledge. "Stories of how you traveled the universe, and— and saved people and worlds and traveled with a bunch of humans."

Dear lord, it sounded like she was having a conniption.

"But I don't really remember a lot of them, I swear." Beatrice spoke fast, "Like, Like, I know your future, but not that much, not really? Not important stuff. Mostly. Kind of. I read them a while ago, a lot of it is fuzzy." She should just stop talking! Really, she was talking herself into an awkward corner, and she should just stop!

"These stories, are they popular where you're from?" The Doctor asked.

Beatrice nodded, "Yeah. More in Britain, but yeah."

"You've never met me before this?"

"No." Beatrice shook her head, completely certain, "Never."

The Doctor looked at her, serious. Then, he looked away, towards the rest of the diner. His posture relaxed, and the dark air dissipated some. It was weird, like the alien flicked some internal switch and turned off the Oncoming Storm, just like that.

Beatrice gripped her coffee mug tight to avoid fidgeting. It felt as if the silence was trying to suffocate her, thick and heavy.

"Oh, the food's here!" The Doctor perked up as their multi-armed server returned, weighed down by several plates of foot and another pot of coffee. The Time Lord happily dug into his portion.

Beatrice still felt incredibly uncomfortable about the prior exchange, but she tried to push it aside. It looked like the Doctor was done being spooky, at least at that moment. Besides— they got their food super-fast. Was that normal, for a space diner?

Beatrice couldn't ask, her nerves were quickly overwhelming every other sensation. She mechanically ate her breakfast but remained tense, pulled taut like a string. She jumped when the Doctor finally spoke again.

"So, you're from Ohio, eh? Wonderful place, love their billboards." He said.

"Um," Beatrice hastily swallowed, "Yeah, Cleveland. Uh, when did I tell you I was from Ohio?" She didn't remember telling him.

"You mentioned it back at the hospital. Ever left home before?" The Doctor asked.

What? No, she hadn't, she probably would have remembered that, right? That seemed like an important exchange. Maybe. Probably. Dammit.

Beatrice nodded, "Mhm. Go on vacations a lot, depends where. Or why, I guess. Have a lot of family out of state, but I guess those aren't really vacations."

"And why not?" The Doctor sounded genuinely confused.

"Oh, I don't know." Beatrice said, "They tend to be stressful. My family isn't…" She cut herself off. She didn't want to tell the Doctor all about her Tragic Backstory, even though she tended to blab to strangers she'd just met. Instead, Beatrice gave a non-committal hand wave.

"Ah." The Time Lord gave her a knowing look, "It's always like that with family, isn't it?"

"Unfortunately." Beatrice grimaced.

"I'm traveling with a sort of family, you know." He continued, causing Beatrice to glance up at him quickly (she'd been admiring the swirls in her coffee), "The Ponds. They're at home at the moment, doing adult things I imagine."

"Like taxes," Beatrice said without thinking.

" _Taxes_." The Doctor made a ridiculous face, and Beatrice had to laugh. He smiled back at her brightly.

The girl realized that had been his ploy all along, to get her to relax again, but she was secretly also very relieved. She didn't want to encounter the scary Doctor again _anytime_ soon.

"You know, I was once jailed for tax fraud." The Doctor said.

"You were— _what_?" Beatrice nearly spat, she was so surprised.

"I was! Never mind the fact that I'd never been to the planet before. Turned out someone was trying to frame me as a criminal!"

The Doctor went on with his wonderfully dramatic retelling of the tale, complete with paper diagrams and complicated hand gestures. Beatrice, once she grew distracted, found the entire situation incredibly entertaining. Across from her was an alien— _an alien!_ — and Beatrice herself was in space— _space!_ A week ago, she never would have believed this would be possible.

And over there was a blue man barfing black goo.

No, really. There, sitting behind the Doctor and a little to the right.

"Doctor, holy shit!" Beatrice squeaked, scrambling halfway to her feet as she pointed behind him. The Doctor's head swiveled around, eyes going wide in alarm.

Time stretched out. The blue man wheezed, black goo falling from his mouth like water to splatter onto the table before him. The man grasped at his neck, panicked, then fell and hit the floor with a thud, scattering two cups to spill soda onto the small cat sitting before him.

Someone in the diner screamed, and time moved as usual.

"I can help, I'm a doctor!" The Doctor shouted as he vaulted out of the booth and over to the fallen man. Beatrice darted after him before she could stop herself.

"He's not breathing!" The small, humanoid cat cried from their position next to the blue man.

The Doctor crouched at their side and scanned everything with a flick of his sonic, muttering "No, no, hang on,"

It didn't look good. Beatrice couldn't tell if the man was still alive.

The Doctor went to perform CPR on the blue man's chest, but after the first pump, a last burst of goo left his mouth. The blue man stopped moving.

"No!" The Doctor did another scan before stilling. No one dared move.

"He's dead." The Doctor breathed apologetically to the cat, "I'm so sorry."

Oh.

Oh no.

The cat started to wail.


	7. that really butters my eggroll

SURPRISE!

* * *

Shortly after the murder, the space authorities arrived. The Doctor, of course, immediately swooped in to speak with them. When several humanoids approached to cart away the dead body, the wailing tabby cat crumpled and clung onto Beatrice's shirt with tiny paws.

Beatrice gave the cat an awkward, one-armed hug. What did someone even say in a situation like this? Sorry, your breakfast friend is dead? Super, super dead? Bit the fucking dust dead?

"He didn't even like it." The little cat whimpered, nearly inaudible.

Beatrice blinked, "Huh?" She should be a little more considerate, or sympathetic, or _something._ She wasn't very good at reacting in real time. She knew people in crisis needed more human contact than usual, to make up for lost serotonin. Wait, this was a cat. Did cats even _have serotonin, shit_ -

"Denner, he didn't even like the special." The cat repeated, "H-He didn't even like it, and it _killed him_!" They wailed louder. Beatrice's shirt felt wet.

Oh, _jeez_.

Someone else came over, someone that looked an awful lot like a shark wearing a uniform. In fact, it _was_ a shark wearing a uniform. Beatrice determined that it was probably better if she didn't worry about it, and shifted the cat into the shark's embrace. Beatrice none too subtly backed away with nervous energy.

"Bea!" The Doctor exclaimed, appearing near her side. Beatrice jumped in surprise. The Time Lord looked a little smug.

"How was the cat? Not too traumatized, I hope?" He asked, straightening his bowtie.

"I mean, she hasn't stopped crying, so that's… something?" Beatrice shrugged helplessly.

The two looked to where the shark was still attempting to calm down the frantic feline. Beatrice took in the entire scene— anthropomorphic animals, space medical care, contaminated black goo swabbed for evidence by even more anthropomorphic animals... It felt surreal. It felt…

...It felt like she was dissociating. Oh, dear.

"How exciting!" The Doctor continued, "Who would want to poison somebody at a diner, of all places? It's hardly the best place to do so; far too many witnesses."

"How do you know it's not food poisoning?" Beatrice asked, looking down and blinking rapidly in an attempt to banish the black spots crowding her vision. She pinched the skin on her right palm, hard, but it didn't help.

"Did that look like food poisoning to you?" The Doctor answered gleefully, then faltered when he noticed Beatrice didn't share his sentiment. "Are you alright?" He frowned.

Beatrice nodded, "Um. Yeah." The Doctor was at the end of a growing tunnel, and it was getting harder to focus on him. She heard the whir of his sonic.

Beatrice had had these episodes ever since she was a kid, it wasn't that weird _._ Even if it felt weird, as if Beatrice was watching herself from some distant plane of reality. Except now she really _was_ on some distant plane of reality.

That detail _really_ wasn't making Beatrice feel any better, _oh god oh fuck no_ —

The Doctor grabbed her hand and pressed something cold into it, "Here."

What? Oh. It was a glass of water.

Beatrice downed the cup in one go. The Doctor waited by her side, a hand on her shoulder.

"Better?" He asked when she finally came up for air.

"Yeah." Beatrice replied, this time truthful since the tunnel _was_ receding quickly, "Sorry."

"How long has that been happening?" The Doctor asked her, eyes critical again. She fidgeted nervously, avoiding his gaze.

"It's fine, it's just an anxiety reflex. It happens." She defended.

The Doctor ducked his head and gave her a very piercing, very knowing Look. "I doesn't have to," He said softly.

Beatrice froze. She didn't know how to respond to that.

Beatrice became hyper-aware of his hand on her shoulder, the brush of the shirt collar against her throat. She couldn't feel her phone in her back pocket, and reflexively reached back to make sure it was still there. The fact that it was calmed her slightly.

"But no one's _doing_ anything!" The tabby cat wailed from across the diner. The Doctor and Beatrice looked towards the commotion. "Denner is _dead_ and nobody's doing anything! He was poisoned! Do you even know who did it? The killer is still out there! He could be doing something worse right now!"

The shark nearest to the distressed feline shushed them, "Please, we're taking care of it—"

"No, you aren't! You _aren't!_ " The cat screeched.

"Please calm _down_ —"

" _I won't!"_

"Hey!" The Doctor bounded forward with a commanding presence and continued, "There's no need to panic—

"No need _?!_ " The cat interrupted.

"I SAID _,_ there's NO NEED TO PANIC!" The Doctor shouted. The cat's muzzle snapped shut. Everyone looked at the Time Lord with wide eyes.

"I know everyone is a bit stressed, and I understand, I _do_ , but I need you to remain calm and listen for a moment!" The Doctor said, this time at a more acceptable volume. "No one is to leave this diner until we find out who killed your friend."

A police-shark raised a fin in question.

"Yes, officer…" The Doctor trailed off.

"Gillie." The shark answered.

"Yes, Officer Gillie, you had a question?"

The shark nodded, "Sorry, but who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor." The Doctor answered haughtily and whipped out his psychic paper, "I'm a detective, see? You're just station police, sorry, but it's true, and you're going to need all the help you can get."

The Doctor looked the tabby cat straight in the eye and added with sincerity, "I promise to get to the bottom of this."

For a beat, there was silence. Beatrice tried once more to ignore the thought of how surreal the whole scene was. Then, the cat sniffed.

"Alright," They said.

The Doctor beamed, "Wonderful!"

* * *

Surprise i didn't abandon this story! Part 7 just made me absolutely bonkers in jonkers. also classes restart today and im sad so that means im writing to cope! Feels good feels organic.

V- WHO R U UR SO FULL OF ENERGY I LOVE IT! ur reviews are all so nice they made my mcfreakin day 3 3 3


	8. sometimes i wish i were jared, 19

The Doctor commandeered an empty, pastel pink colored booth and got right down to business, gently probing the tabby cat for information. Beatrice sat next to the Doctor, curious as to how this would play out.

"Denner was my boss." The tabby cat began hesitantly, "We were… we were coming back from a business trip. He just started to gag, and—" The tabby cat burst into tears once more. The Doctor and Beatrice decided to question someone else.

It didn't get much better than that.

A small, six-armed woman was only there for a date she'd arranged through an app. A salesman so stereotypical it was a little terrifying thoroughly complained that he was going to be late for a meeting, and claimed that he'd sue if _this big shindig takes any longer_! The next man communicated with the Doctor entirely through eyebrow wiggles, so Beatrice didn't have any idea what his deal was, but the Doctor seemed alright with him. The next alien, well…

"I would _never_ poison anyone." The alien in the heavy, midnight blue cloak stated vehemently.

"Oh yeah, you're a member of the Cere Legion, am I right?" The Doctor replied.

"That is correct." The alien replied, "Murder is highly against our beliefs— so is death."

Beatrice, who had zoned out briefly, snapped back to attention. She squinted to see the alien's face, but under the cloak, there was just blackness. She spoke, "...Death is illegal?"

"That is a dramatic way to phrase it, but yes, if you'd like. Did I stutter?" The alien responded, rather ruffled.

"Um." Beatrice wasn't sure how to respond, "I guess not?"

What do they do, jail dead people?

Wait.

 _Wait... Mausoleums! Wow._

"Let's get back to the topic at hand, shall we?" The Doctor interjected, upon the fact that Beatrice looked like she'd discovered the secret of life itself.

Anyway, the cloaked alien didn't do it. Neither did the couple who they spoke to afterward, who covered their faces with napkins out of fear.

"If it's airborne, we could all be in danger." The woman in the couple intoned seriously. Her voice was a little muffled from the napkin; it was pink and had a cartoon illustration of a spaceship that had big googly eyes and a button nose.

The Doctor tried to put their worries to rest, "It's not airborne."

"Everyone here could die." The man said, giving his partner a meaningful look.

The Doctor spoke again, "No— it's not—"

"It could be a new plague, you know!" The woman interrupted.

"Please calm down," Beatrice said. They ignored her.

Even though the Doctor and Beatrice couldn't get much out of them, they were fairly certain the hypochondriac couple wasn't the culprit. Even on the off chance that they _might_ be, Beatrice didn't really want to speak with them again.

After that, the Doctor and Beatrice moved onto questioning the diner employees. The first one, the androgynous green humanoid who had shown them to their table, wasn't very helpful.

"Why would I poison a patron?" The server asked them, looking at Beatrice as if she were mad.

"Bad tip?" Beatrice offered.

The server leaned forward slightly and squinted at her. "What's a tip?" They asked.

 _Nobody tips in space? Good to know capitalism isn't everywhere._

"Did you notice anything suspicious?" The Doctor interjected, attempting to steer the conversation back on track.

The server shrugged, "Ask my coworker?"

So, they did. Surprisingly enough, once they sat down across from the other green humanoid (you know, Glorf?) and got into the nitty-gritty details, the alien was startlingly frank.

"Oh, my boss did it," Glorf said.

" _What_." The Doctor said at the same time Beatrice made a noise that sounded like a bit like "H-whugh?"

The Doctor leaned forward, excited, "Your boss?"

"Yeah, she's manager and head chef." Glorf responded, "She always puts something weird in the diner's special. Hates rude customers, and _cannot_ take criticism."

"She'd kill someone over a bad review?" The Doctor asked, skeptical. He leaned back, pensive.

 _Wait oh fuck no,_ "Y-you had the special!" Beatrice squeaked, looking panicked.

The Doctor's eyes widened. He looked at Beatrice, then at Glorf, then back to Beatrice.

"It's probably fine." He said, voice carefully level.

It took all of Beatrice's self-control to not grab the Time Lord by the shoulder and shake him wildly. "What? Doc!"

The Doctor stilled. His eyes darkened. Before Beatrice could realize her mistake and apologize, the Doctor smacked the table top with one hand and stood smoothly, offered his hand with a flourish.

"Right! Let's go bother the chef!" He said face pulled wide in a grin.

"Let me get this right. You think I'm _intentionally poisoning_ my customers?"

The chef, though similar to the multi-armed servers, had an abnormally long face (by human standards, at least). Her eyes, large and watery, bored into the Doctor and Beatrice with extreme distaste.

"Someone died in your establishment." The Doctor retorted.

"Yes, _I'm aware_ , thank you." The chef responded, "But I personally approve everything before it's sent out of the kitchen."

"Makes sense, you take great pride in your work, you need to have a hand in everything," The Doctor said, critical, "But see— Denner, what did he have again?"

"The special." Beatrice piped up.

"Right! What's so special about the special?" The Doctor said, grinning back at her. Beatrice snorted in an effort to cover her laughter, but the chef only gave them a scathing look.

The chef's voice rose, "There's no way anything was poisoned without my knowing, our ingredients come from the finest— "

"But the thing is," The Doctor interrupted, pointing with an intent, "The thing is, is that whatever affected our dearly departed friend is that it was ingested. So either the food was contaminated _before_ it left the kitchen, or you have a very guilty waiter."

The chef sputtered angrily, but the Doctor wasn't finished. He went on, "Right now you're the main suspect, and you'd better believe that I'm going to—"

Someone screamed from the seating area.

Beatrice jumped, reflexively grabbed onto the Doctor's arm. He spun around mouth agape.

"No, no no!"

Outside, the alien who had come here for a date was lying on the floor, drowned in black goo.

* * *

yikes

I'm not abandoning this story, i SWEAR, i just have a lot of other stuff to do. I have the rest of this arc planned out (w/ most of the dialogue except some bits near the end), but the thing that takes time is like…. The actual writing.

Have a nice october and remember to always vote in your local elections!


	9. that's an off topic question, next

my editing software: god why does this girl use so many unnecessary commas.

Also, an important note: i'm trying something different for this story, just because it was getting a little stale and unfun for me to write. :( let me know what you think! Especially let me know if it's clunky or anything like that.

* * *

Beatrice had now seen two dead bodies in the span of a few hours, and she was feeling a little overwhelmed. She'd seen dead bodies before, of course, but by then they had been… well, they hadn't _looked_ dead in the strictest of senses. By the time Beatrice had seen them, those bodies had already been fixed up by morticians; injected and adjusted and painted to look less gray and lifeless than they were. By the time the bodies were propped up in lavish, rented coffins, it was hard to associate them with the people they had once been.

The bodies in the diner were _people_. Beatrice _saw_ Denner die. She remembered this, rather suddenly, and sat down heavily in the nearest chair.

The tabby cat was sitting across the table and mumbling without stop, almost compulsively.

"I was talking with her before," the cat was saying, "She was telling me about how her mom kept bothering her about dating someone, you know, and this was her first date. I wonder if she was happy. Was she happy? She looked nervous but maybe that's just because of Denner, and I-"

Beatrice tuned them out. She wondered if she should ask for the cat's name, but figured that too much time had passed for it to not be awkward. Instead, she pulled out her phone and fidgeted with it, turning it over and over in hand, popping it out of the case and popping it back in again, forming a rhythm.

Officer Gillie came back with the Doctor hot on her heels (or maybe it's 'fins,' but anthropomorphic sharks can be tricky like that).

"How are we?" the Doctor asked, a glint in his eye and a sprint in his step.

"Awful." the tabby cat immediately responded.

"Great!" The Doctor said. Beatrice couldn't help it, she reflexively smacked him before she could stop herself.

"Ow, sorry, not great," He retracted, wringing his hands, "Er, how can I help?"

"How's it going so far?" Officer Gilly asked, leaning forward slightly.

(Beatrice wondered how she could do that. Can sharks bend at the spine? How can they sit, for that matter? She has shoes, so one can infer that she has feet. What do her feet look like? Do they look like lizard feet? How does she get dressed in the morning, sharks don't have opposable thumbs, sharks aren't supposed to _walk_ , _how the fuck_ ).

"Good question! Haven't found the killer yet, see, but we're getting there! It might've been the cook, but the jury's still out on that one." The Doctor said.

"So you don't know?" the tabby cat said, voice warbling.

"Well," the Doctor clasped his hands together and breathed in, "Yes, if you'd like to think about it that way."

Beatrice didn't say anything. She didn't know what she _could_ say (if anything at all). She popped her phone back into the case again.

Officer Gilly spoke gently to the tabby cat, "Hon, do you know if anyone would have wanted to kill your boss?"

"He was your boss?" the Doctor interjected, surprised.

"Mhmm," the cat nodded, "We worked at the same insurance firm-"

Beatrice blinked. _Space insurance? Fucking space insurance?_

Because she still thought this was a hallucination, Beatrice wondered what fucking drug she had to be on to think up _space insurance_.

"Ms- Ah…." The Doctor trailed off.

"Aubrey." The tabby cat responded.

"Right, Ms. Aubrey, why don't you come with us? We can check everything out on my ship, see if you're not at risk as well."

Aubrey shifted uneasily in their seat. "I wouldn't, um, be a burden? I know I can stay here and-"

"Nah, I need to check something anyway." The Doctor waved away her concerns in a very blase way. Beatrice felt extremely unsettled by it in a way that she couldn't pinpoint.

There was another police-shark included in the entourage of space law enforcement that was gathered in the pastel diner. Where Officer Gillie's skin color was mostly solid, the other shark had dark grey patterns along the side of his head almost like leopard prints. Before the Doctor left for the TARDIS, he took the time to look at both of the sharks in the eye.

"You two, hold down the fort here." the Doctor said, "If anything should happen…" He trailed off ominously. Beatrice tensed.

Officer Gillie nodded, "You can count on us to do our duties, sir."

"Good." the Doctor nodded. A beat passed before the dangerous glint in his eye faded, and the Doctor straightened, "Good. Okay!" he spun around and made for the diner entrance. Beatrice hurried after him.

The American diner aesthetic ended in the hallway.

Instead, the walls were made of smooth metal accompanied by metal floors with blue panels and green panels leading different directions, like arrows in an IKEA. It was more what Beatrice had expected when the Doctor had told her they were on a space station (rather than, you know, the diner).

She jogged up to keep pace with the Doctor's long strides. "Why do you need to go back to the TARDIS?" She asked.

The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of black goo.

"Okay, ew, gross," Beatrice said and shivered. The temperature had fallen substantially in the hallway; she wished she'd brought a jacket.

"I think it's fascinating!" the Doctor said. He sounded a little hurt but nonetheless put the vial away.

Every once in awhile the metal walls were broken up by grand picture windows. The view from them was incredibly distracting. Beatrice could see the galaxy stretching out in the distance, and— she didn't know which galaxy it was, she realized. There was a great chance it wasn't the Milky Way or even any neighboring galaxy. But that didn't really matter if she was in a completely different dimension, did it? Nothing would ever be _hers,_ no matter how similar it looked. She was in a completely different dimension than the one she was born in. Everything was and would continue to be different.

 _Don't think about it. Don't think about it_ _or you're gonna start crying again._

"H-Hang on!" Aubrey called from behind them. The cat was hesitating in front of a darkened, more narrow hallway. A sign explained that down that way was the loading docks.

"I remember seeing something weird over here when we were walking past earlier," Aubrey said.

"What kind of weird?" the Doctor asked, frowning.

"Like…" Aubrey floundered, looking down and fidgeting, "A weird guy. They tried to talk to Denner, but Denner kept walking. The guy— they didn't like that."

Beatrice squinted. She wondered why Aubrey had just mentioned this _now_ , of all times. Maybe they'd forgotten it and walking back this way had refreshed their memory. Suspicious, but some people didn't work well under pressure— Beatrice should know.

But, like, still suspicious.

"That… seems awfully convenient." the Doctor said, being incredibly correct. He fidgeted, hand going to absentmindedly pat his coat pocket

He paused, "How about Bea goes with you, checks it out?"

"H— What?" Beatrice squeaked out.

"Hey! You'll be fine," the Doctor said, waving his hand in a very blasé manner, "I'll be right with you, I just need the TARDIS to run a diagnostic scan on this vial I have. Very fast, won't take long at all."

Beatrice did not feel like it would be fine. "I—" she went to look him in the eyes but caught herself, looking at his nose instead, "Promise?"

The Doctor smiled, "It'll be fine."

 _What the fuck, that's not a promise. He didn't say it. Fuck, you've been silent for too long, it'd be too awkward to ask now, fuck_ —

"Um. Okay." Beatrice said.

"Great!" the Doctor said. He turned on his heel and was suddenly moving swiftly down the hallway. He called behind him, "It won't take long!"

He meant it. It wasn't communicated, but the Doctor _really_ just needed to get to the TARDIS to figure out exactly what the goo was. Once he did, he could pinpoint which diner-goer was most likely to have possession of such a toxin, and then crack the case clean open. But he didn't relate that to Beatrice. It wasn't particularly the Doctor's fault; he'd been traveling alone for a bit too long and forgot what it was like to have someone _new_ following along behind. So when the Doctor went off, full of a heroic purpose, Beatrice was left standing awkwardly in a chilly hallway with a suspicious, anthropomorphic cat and a mouth like a trucker.

 _Fuck!_ She thought.

* * *

Please review! Anyone who can tell me where I got aubrey's name from deserves a cookie and a well deserved pat on the back.


	10. boy got his free taco

YEEHAW, WE'RE IN THE DOUBLE DIGITS NOW!

* * *

Beatrice followed Audrey down the dimly lit hallway with no small amount of trepidation.

Nothing about the situation seemed like it would go well. Beatrice could see it in her mind's eye: the part of the plot where everything crashed together for one final conflict. Afterwards, the Doctor would make everything right, but would Beatrice be okay in the end? She had no way of knowing for sure. Was she a long-term companion here, or just a brief, exciting, two episode plotline?

Beatrice figured that she should say something. She licked her lips before finally speaking up, "Um, where did you—"

"I didn't get a good look at their face. They looked shady, though." Aubrey interrupted her.

"Okay. Where did you see them?" Beatrice asked, squashing down annoyance.

"This way, I think? By a loading dock." Aubrey responded without looking back.

It doesn't have to be said aloud that everything about this sounded like a spectacularly bad idea.

 _Where was the Doctor? He needs to hurry up!_

The hallway was too dim. Beatrice flashed back to the hospital briefly, to dark hallways only lit by small blue LED lights and gnashing teeth.

 _I don't like this, I don't like this, turn back, you should just fucking turn back, it doesn't matter what they say, just— just turn back!_

"Did you hear that?" Aubrey said.

"Hear what?" Beatrice squeaked.

"Over here!" Aubrey responded nervously, and ran off around a corner. It was entirely on reflex that Beatrice ran after them, intending to keep an eye on the anthropomorphic cat.

But she was too slow.

Beatrice crossed under some kind of broad doorway. Quickly, as fast as a real cat, Aubrey darted past her, going back the way they had come. Beatrice skidded to a halt, but was unable to do anything as a door slammed shut behind her. Aubrey was on the other side of it.

Beatrice was effectively trapped. Aubrey had trapped her.

 _What?_

"Wh— Aubrey?" Beatrice said, "What the fuck?"

Aubrey, visible through a small window, was focused on a wall-panel. They didn't look up when Beatrice called their name.

The lights turned on abruptly, bathing the room in neon orange. Beatrice noticed the walls were lined with industrial-looking space-suits.

At this point in time I'm sure that you, beloved readers, have realized what's going on. Unfortunately, Beatrice was under quite a lot of stress, and had been off of her anxiety medication for a little over two days, so she wasn't quite thinking clearly, and only _just_ realized that she was in an air lock, and that Aubrey was a murderer.

"Sorry." Aubrey said, voice muffled from the glass.

"What?" Beatrice repeated, a broken record. Her brain was short circuiting trying to come up with a logical response; she hadn't exactly had prior experience in this department.

Another door opened behind Beatrice. She snapped her head around to look at it so quickly her neck hurt. There was another door after that, thankfully, but after that there was nothing but space space space _space._

 _Just space._

"Fuck!" Beatrice shrieked, and began to slam on the door with both hands, "Let me out! Let me _out_!"

She looked around for another wall panel, but there wasn't one, only smooth, smooth walls, so she went to grab a suit, _could she grab a suit_ , she _needed to get a suit_ , she went to grab a suit and her fingers nearly made contact with the grey fabric of the one nearest, but—

The last door opened and Beatrice was sucked out and away.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She tumbled head over heels, _how many seconds before you die_ there was darkness everywhere and she couldn't focus _I just want my mom please_ and it was cold _I don't want to die—_

She can't breathe.

I know, and I'm sure that many of you know, that if you hold your breath in the void of space, you will explode. You don't want to do that. But- Beatrice didn't know that. Maybe she had heard it at least once before in her life, but by the time she was _sucked_ into another universe and _sucked_ out of an airlock, she'd forgotten. So it's a miracle that she didn't hold her breath.

Or, maybe not a miracle. Maybe just luck. I'm not sure how long she was out there, really.

Longer than I would ever wish on any of you.

Beatrice slammed into a hard surface. Firm, warm arms were wrapped around her. Everything was vibrating. First, Beatrice just thought that it was her going losing her mind, but she slowly realized it wasn't that; it was the Doctor, speaking nonstop in an attempt to soothe her.

"You're okay! You're okay, you're alright." He repeated, holding Beatrice tight. They were both sitting on the floor of the TARDIS. Everything was bright and safe and normal. Beatrice registered this, distantly, but she was still so terrified of _space_.

 _I want to go home_.

She was so relieved she started to sob.

The Doctor sat there with her for a little while to let her get her bearings. After her breathing evened out a little more and her tears slowed, he helped her move to sit on one of the captain's chairs.

"Th—" Beatrice cleared her throat, "Aubrey, they—"

"Shh, I know." the Doctor said. He draped a thick blanket over her shoulders. He added, "I'm sorry, I should have seen it before." Stopping by the TARDIS wasn't supposed to take so long, he thought, but he didn't say that.

Beatrice couldn't help it. She laughed. "Um, me too."

 _Me too bitch, me fuckin' too,_ she thought, borderline hysterical.

The Doctor squatted before her and took one of her hands in his, frowned when he realized they were still cold. "Hm."

He stood and started to pilot at the console, beginning with a sharp tug of a lever that made the whole room _whir_ with power. A few moments later they landed with a thump. The Doctor paused to look at Beatrice.

"You can wait here," he said, "I need to settle this." He strode out the doors.

Beatrice sat there and tried to stop shaking.

* * *

if i could redo this part i would probably have aubrey poison beatrice or the doctor, buttttt it's too late for that anyway. that might come in rewrites (in LOOONG WHILE).

ALSO shorter parts = more frequent updates yes?

Reviews:

TacoXI - omg, that's one of the best compliments i've ever gotten! I love rick riordan, he's one of my childhood role models. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far!

Alikai - your reviews r so positive! The one for this chapter & the one before made my day :))))

That's Balderdash - thank u so much!

Pfannkuchen07 - aww thank u so much! I'm glad you're enjoying the point of view changes :))) also, did u mean beatrice, not aubrey? Because aubrey is uh… lmao. If you really meant aubrey, i have bad news for you hahah.


	11. SAIL

hello friends, let's get this bread :)

* * *

 _Don't think, don't think or you're fucking dead, just like you almost were out there in the fucking void with your ribcage burst open like a fucking melon under an elephant's foot, you_ —

Beatrice pulled her legs up and smashed her face against her knees. She hummed, feeling the vibrations in the back of her throat, and decided that she was done being explosively loud for the day (all that crying, you know).

 _But did you deserve it? Don't you? You've kind of been through a lot. Don't think about it._

The TARDIS hummed in the background, almost in unison with Beatrice. It would have been calming if Beatrice didn't actually prefer complete silence.

She couldn't stay still for very much longer. She needed to _do_ something. Beatrice stood, shaking, with the blanket still wrapped around her and made for the TARDIS doors.

The closer she got, the more clearly Beatrice could hear voices from the other side.

The Doctor was ranting, "But you didn't plan on me being here, eh? You _knew_ I'd recognize the poison, so you tried to kill my friend."

"Wh— no I did not!" cried Aubrey.

Beatrice sidled out to lean against the TARDIS doors. It was parked by the front of the diner this time, though the Doctor was standing down one of the aisles, a very accusatory air about him.

"Sounds fake, but okay," Beatrice said, voice flat.

One of Aubrey's ears twitched, and she whirled where she stood, looking at Beatrice, aghast. "Wh— what? How—"

"Sup," Beatrice said. She kind of wanted to say something like _sup, asshole_ but didn't quite feel like this was the right crowd in which to do so. Too many strangers. Also, for one, it was a _crowd_ , of which Beatrice generally tried to avoid.

"Did she really try to kill you?" the tiger shark officer asked.

"Um," Beatrice shifted uncomfortably, gripping the blanket tightly. It was tartan, she noticed. It probably also wasn't good that she was noticing that so late after getting it, but, _well…_

"I had to pick her up with my ship before she froze." the Doctor interjected.

 _Or exploded._

 _Oh my god, don't think about that!_

"How did you get to her in time?" Officer Gilly asked. The Doctor looked taken aback.

"I— really? I do the whole thing with the appearing from nowhere and you don't know how I— _guys_." He said, whining slightly. Beatrice's mouth quirked to the side, but she didn't laugh.

Aubrey was arrested, in the end. Beatrice didn't realize that when you had _sharks_ as _police_ , the bad guys didn't really stand a chance. By the time Aubrey had been escorted away (kicking and yowling) and the diner goers were getting ready to leave, Beatrice had stopped shaking so bad.

"So," the Doctor flopped next to Beatrice on the jumpseat, "Something's been bothering you."

They were back on the TARDIS. The Doctor had said farewell to everyone he wanted to say it to and taken off with Beatrice in tow, probably never to see that diner again. They were _done_ with the mystery. The episode was over, for lack of better terms. Everyone was _safe._

For a moment, Beatrice forgot where she was. For a moment, she was at home and talking with a friend. So, she laughed and said. "Oh, yeah."

"Tell me what it is?" The alien offered.

"Mmm." Beatrice rubbed the side of her face to get rid of the nervous blush that was growing and looked away, "I guess I just. I just don't know what's happening next? Or what's… _supposed_ to happen next?"

"What do you think is going to happen next?" The Doctor asked her.

Beatrice floundered, "Uhh... I dunno, I guess… I guess I could be dropped off on earth somewhere? And just kind of get along there?" And get hit by a car, or something, the way her luck was going. Beatrice wasn't entirely sure she could take care of herself on her own. She could do laundry, sure, but taxes? How did those even work? How did _healthcare_ work? If the Doctor dropped her off and Beatrice had to fend of herself, she'd have to get healthcare. She couldn't even cook!

Little did she know, she didn't have to worry about any of that.

"Nah…" The Doctor crossed his arms and leaned back, fixing Beatrice with a calculating look, "I can't just let a time sensitive like you wander off somewhere."

Beatrice blinked. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, so she closed it again.

The Doctor looked at her.

 _What_?

A time sensitive? Beatrice knew about those from fanfiction. A time-sensitive was, for lack of better terms, a schmuck who knew the future. Someone with precognitive abilities. Someone with future vision. But, well…

Well, that was fiction.

"I'm… excuse me?" She tried again.

 _He's shitting me. Right? Right?_

"You know what I mean." The Doctor said, gesturing vaguely, "You know about _me_ , about Time Lords, about the inner workings of time. It probably has to do with the artron energy in your system, as well."

"What?"

He sighed, "It's most likely a dimensional difference. Humans here don't have that high of an artron count in their cells. You do, but it's been there for _a while_. I'd say you were born with it, just like all humans from your world most likely are."

"But— " Beatrice sat up, "But you're not— I'm not— "

But the Doctor continued, "Many of the stories you've heard and love could be other timelines, in fact. Not just mine, but others from entirely different universes and timelines, picked up and believed to be fiction. I've suspected you for a little while now, in fact. You were from another reality but you _knew_ me. Very cool, actually."

Should Beatrice tell him he was a TV show? A literal, actual TV show? Would that even help her case at that point?

"I'll admit, I've made wrong assumptions in the past, so I just wanted to be sure before I confirmed it— "

"You're a TV show." Beatrice blurted, and the Doctor stopped, "Like, your stories, I lied— I _kind_ of lied— but there was a TV show called _Doctor Who,_ it's how I know about you."

"Beatrice…"

"No!" Beatrice shouted, struggling to keep her voice level as she spoke faster and faster, desperately trying to get her case heard, "No, no, _listen_ , it sounds fucking nuts, but it's _true_ , okay? _Doctor Who_ is a British TV show, it's been running for about 50 years, since, like, the '60s or some shit. It follows the adventures of a Time Lord called the Doctor as he travels time and space and changes his face and solves problems and he has all these companions. I watched the show in middle school, that's how I know who you are. I'm _not_ time sensitive or psychic or a visionary or anything, I promise!"

The Doctor, though he let Beatrice continue, was deeply worried. He'd suspected the young human to be troubled from how he'd seen her act so far, but this didn't bode well. This story… it suggested that Beatrice was having trouble coming to grips with reality.

Like he'd said, it didn't bode well.

"I haven't watched recent seasons," Beatrice continued, becoming frantic, "It was mostly just back in middle school that I was a fan, so there are huge gaps now. I _don't_ know everything, I'm— I'm just a dumb kid! Why do you even want to travel with me, I'm like 12 in Time Lord years."

"I'm sorry. I know it may seem strange, but I'm sorry." The Doctor said to her, eyes sad.

"Stop." Beatrice bit out, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"Because of your abilities, it's my duty to keep an eye on you." If Gallifrey wasn't destroyed, then things would have been different, thought the Doctor. But without the Citadel, there wasn't any other option. He continued, "Time sensitives tend to be prone to mental stress. You can imagine how detrimental that could be under the wrong conditions. Beatrice, if the wrong people got their hands on you, with the knowledge you have— "

Beatrice shook her head. This is… it was… he was treating her like she wasn't able to take care of herself or something. Like she was an objectthat he needed to 'keep an eye on.'

She wasn't even entirely convinced that this whole thing was real! It could be. It could be, and Beatrice could be displaced, and she could be a danger to the universe. _Or_ , it could be one massive hallucination, and she could be strapped to a bed in a hospital somewhere, doped to the gills on drugs.

Beatrice rushed to her feet with no real destination in mind, instead choosing to pace nervously and wring her hands. Nothing made sense. What was she supposed to _do_?

The Doctor stayed seated, choosing to let his newest passenger burn her extra energy in the safety of his ship. It would be good for her to work out any internal problems on her own, just to build confidence, wait no she's gone and pinched herself hard enough to draw blood, _why_ would she—

"Beatrice!" The Time Lord leaped to his feet and grabbed both of the girl's arms in a gentle grip, "Stop that."

She couldn't focus— she was crying for real now, gasping for air. Beatrice just wanted to go home, _why_ couldn't she be home? Why couldn't everything just _stop_?

"How do I— " Beatrice hiccuped, "How do I know you're not fake? Like, like how do I know this is— how do I know I'm not— "

"This is real, you need to accept that it's real." The Doctor insisted.

"But what if it's not! what if it's… I can't tell for sure." She couldn't, and that was what terrified her more than anything.

"Beatrice." The Doctor said softly, and moved to cup her face with both of his hands, "Do you trust me?"

Did she? From one perspective, yeah, probably. Eleven was _her_ Doctor, not Ten or Nine or Twelve. There were parts of Eleven that were terrifying and dark, yes. Parts where Eleven was so… _angry_ , parts where he lashed out.

She didn't know _why_ Eleven was her Doctor, he just… he just was. She couldn't explain it.

He was so old. Beatrice could see in his eyes that he was old. His eyes were old but his hands warm.

And he was all she had left.

"I need you to trust me, alright?" The Doctor said, "No matter what, know that you can trust me. I'm right here."

Beatrice swallowed the lump in her throat. She forced herself to look him in the eye. He steadily returned her gaze, and she couldn't see anything that suggested subterfuge.

"...Okay." She told him.

A beat, then he smiled. "Okay. Good."

His new companion was a bit of a handful, but it wasn't anything the Doctor hadn't dealt with before. She was also a little more than just a companion, wasn't she? Something new, something exciting.

"And hey," The Doctor said, dropping his hands to rest on her shoulders, "Just think of all the things I can show you! There's a whole universe out there, just waiting to be seen."

Beatrice nodded unsteadily, averting her gaze to his bowtie instead of his eyes.

"If you're worried about the age difference, it'll be fine. I've traveled with humans much younger than you, and nothing bad happened!"

Just like before, Beatrice forgot where she was. She forgot who she was standing before, so she gave a bitter laugh and responded with "Yeah, _okay_."

The Doctor stilled.

Beatrice didn't notice, not at first, but only because a second later reality caught back up with her mouth and she realized what she'd implied. She sucked in air through her front teeth and winced, looking at the Doctor nervously.

He gave a strained smile, "How about I check you over again in my med bay and then we call it a day? You're likely still feeling a bit overwhelmed."

Beatrice bit her lip and nodded, averting her gaze.

The Doctor realized that that was the thing, wasn't it? Beatrice wasn't like other companions because she knew things about him he'd like to remain forgotten.

Her days were also numbered, but he didn't tell her that. That was the main reason for the second med bay visit— to repeat tests he'd already done when the girl had first gotten onboard. The Doctor had double and triple checked the results, but it was always the same. Always the same negative conclusion, caused by her unprotected travel between dimensions.

Beatrice, meanwhile, went back to her new room and cried until she was too exhausted to stay awake any longer.

* * *

We're done with the diner debacle! :))) Hoped y'all liked it.

ALSO! I was rereading old chapters of this and noticed that at one point, I mention Beatrice having blue veins. SHE DOES NOT HAVE BLUE BLOOD, JUST TO BE CLEAR. Beatrice is supposed to be a self insert from like, two years ago, so i was just describing my own hands and my skin is like. SUPER pale. Like, so pale i look artificially overexposed in photos. The veins i can see on my wrists look blue, which is pretty normal for me, but i just realized that not everyone would have the same experience.

Reviews:

That's Balderdash - thank u so much! :)))

Catlorde - MAN I love ur username! I'm glad ur enjoying the story! It's also nice to know that my pacing is like… normal lmao. I was worried that it was all moving too quickly hahah.

Alikai - omg i love ur reviews. Also YES i get what u mean and i'm so glad my story can deliver a feeling like that!

Pfannkuchen07 - yess no it's ok i knew what u meant hahah! I think it's really interesting that u thought it was gonna b a group job? Reader opinions r always interesting hahah, they really help writers. This is my first time writing super heavy mystery mini plots so I need all the help i can get :))) I think the chef was originally supposed to be the killer? But there wasn't enough motive :( and in regards to beatrice having a phobia of space (and hospitals, tsk tsk) well… you'll have to keep reading, won't you? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

lostiesgirl - hi! :))) you might not see this b/c it's later on in the story, but i'm glad you're enjoying everything so far! :)))


	12. but his dishes can talk

Beatrice was in a hospital room.

Not the one from Kansas; this is from earlier.

Her mom was there, and her grandmother. There were all seated around a bed where a skinny figure lay. It smelled of mothballs. Everything was bright.

"I've done awful things." A voice spoke up from beside Beatrice. She turned to see a man slumped in a hospital chair. There was a swirl on his face, dark and hypnotizing. He looked familiar.

"What?" Beatrice asked him.

"Awful, terrible things." Is all he said. The swirl on his face grew, spinning and stretching across his skin. It caught the tears on his face and floated them away into the air.

"Bea." Beatrice's mother suddenly called, and the girl turned to look at her instead of the man, "Bea, don't take off the mask."

"What mask?" Beatrice had a bad feeling.

The figure on the bed began to sink down into the mattress, dragging all the medical equipment along with them. Beatrice's grandmother wailed.

"No!" Beatrice cried, and moved to grab the figure, but was held back.

It was the swirl man. He said, "I had to."

Then his face melted.

* * *

Beatrice woke up, heart beating a mile a minute.

She was unbelievably twisted in her bedsheets and still on the TARDIS.

So. Probably not a hallucination, then.

That line of thinking opened up a bit in her stomach that sucked away any energy that Beatrice could have gained from sleeping for 12 hours. She burrowed deeper into the covers and pulled out her phone instead. Though she'd managed to charge it, it still didn't have service. She really needed to ask the Doctor to magic it into a super phone already.

But… what would she _do_ with it, anyway? Get Twitter? Did Twitter even exist in this universe? What would she even talk about? _Hashtag being chased by a freaking monster right now, let y'all know how it turns out_?

Beatrice killed time by playing some mindless games. An hour later, she still didn't want to get out of bed. It felt better to be unconscious.

She had to face reality at one point but she didn't _want_ to. Everything felt awful. She was so sad it felt like her insides were deteriorating.

Photo app. Beatrice searched for pictures of her friends and family. That made her want to cry more, though, so she did that for a while. She threw the phone to the other side of the bed, instantly regretted it, and crawled over to grab it again and apologize.

Jeez. She had to pee.

Her whole room situation _was_ really nice. The bathroom cupboards were stocked with everything she could need, including but not limited to: hair ties, mouthwash, floss, face wash, like forty bath bombs, and a shower cap.

Hmm. Beatrice decided she'd use the bath bombs a little later.

The bedroom was much the same, but it wasn't really anything she _owned_. She only had a few things from home.

There were clothes that she had been wearing, for sure. Dress, jacket, leggings, boots. Beatrice had been wearing her favorite pair bra when she'd woken up in the cornfield, which was really the most fortunate thing. What if she'd been wearing a bra that didn't fit, or god forbid, a _strapless bra_?

After that, only her phone and jewelry. Two rings and a necklace. The necklace was kind of cheap since she'd gotten it on clearance, but the rings were nice. One had belonged to her mother.

But that was it. That was everything she had.

She didn't even have her _glasses_. Beatrice could see fairly well without them, but… well. They were her glasses. She needed them.

Where was the Doctor, anyway? How long had she been asleep?

Beatrice left her room and got incredibly turned around in the hallways. It took her twenty or so minutes to find a kitchen, which had a walk-in refrigerator, by the way.

 _Your room doesn't even have a walk-in closet and the kitchen has a walk-in refrigerator? What the hell. This whole 'bigger on the inside' thing is getting out of hand._

Beatrice scrambled together a small sandwich and a cup of tea, which smelled exactly like the tea she'd used to nab from her mom's collection at home. How on earth the TARDIS nailed that kind of shit, she'd never know.

But if she had to guess… well, it had something to do with telepathy, guaranteed.

Still no sign of the Doctor. Beatrice wandered for a little while longer, found the kitchen again, where she rinsed off the plate and mug and left the room as she'd found it.

This was getting ridiculous.

"Doctor?" Beatrice called hesitantly.

No response.

Beatrice sighed, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, "MARCO!"

A beat, then two. Then, very faintly, she heard the Doctor respond, " _POLO!_ "

Beatrice jogged in that direction.

The Doctor was surrounded by _stuff_.

Just… stuff. Knick-knacks. Miscellaneous junk. It was as if Beatrice had wandered into the TARDIS attic, where lost and unwanted things found a home. And the thing was, Beatrice, didn't even recognize what half of it was. A lot of things were _off_ , ever so slightly, and it had Beatrice wondering if it was an alternate universe difference or an alien difference.

"Doctor?" Beatrice called hesitantly.

"In here!" Came the response from deeper in the room. Beatrice carefully made her way over and found him sitting in what looked to be a pile of pots and pans.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I got bored." He said. He tossed a pan over his shoulder, where it fell and made an enormous crashing noise. Beatrice flinched and moved to stand away from the crash site, for fear of falling boxes. The Doctor continued, "You were asleep for _forever_! I had to do something."

"Oh, um." Beatrice wrung her hands, "About that. I was wondering if you had glasses I could borrow?"

"Glasses? You need those?"

"Uh, yeah."

The Doctor threw another pot over his shoulder. Beatrice snorted. The time lord stood, unsteadily, and bounded over to another section of the attic. The pots were left behind.

"I know I have glasses around here somewhere!" He called.

 _What_? "But, won't they need to be changed a little?" Beatrice asked. _You know, for my actual vision?_

"Oh. Well, _yeah_ ," the Doctor said like he definitely didn't forget about that.

Beatrice began to snoop. She was quite good at it, before the whole 'falling into another dimension' thing. With an expert's touch, she began to rifle through boxes and inspect various items. Nothing seemed to be sorted with any sense of an organizational system.

And _then_ she found a _polaroid_.

Beatrice _loved_ Polaroids. Who didn't? It was so much fun to just snap dumb pictures and see them appear before your eyes. Plus, they had a cool vintage feel that was rather 'hip,' lately, if Beatrice did say so herself. The only downside to them was the astronomical price of film and the fact that there were no free do-overs when it came to bad photos. Because of that, Beatrice had had a collection of bad selfies back home.

The camera she'd found looked completely normal and everything. Not one of the newer ones, this was an older model, from the '80s or something. There were 4 pictures left. Hopefully, the film wasn't too old. There didn't appear to be any new packets in the box.

"Hey, that's my camera!" The Doctor piped up once he'd noticed what she was oohing and aahing over. "I got it on one of the moons of Rune, back in my last regeneration."

"Really?" Beatrice asked, turning it around and lifting it up to take a bad selfie (after all, she was a collector).

"Yeah, it-"

 _Snap_.

Beatrice was somewhere Else.

* * *

Jeez, can't these two catch a break?

Reviews:

EiraFae - Omg i'm glad ur liking it! I'm relieved that beatrice is coming across as a 'Big Mood ™' hahah

That's Balderdash - thank you, you cool person ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

SnowCatt - oh that's a relief! It was a super belated thing to realize hahah.

PrincessMagic - thank you! :)))

NoVacancyMind - OMGGG I LOVE UR REVIEW! Yeah we all have 10-year-old fanfics we regret hahah… the classic who refs will probably appear a little, but only a little, since i've never seen much of it :( i love ur profile pic btw!


	13. you guys alright?

I had another writing assignment due today which was why I wasn't able to post Sunday.

title references the vine where there's a bunch of baby sheep in the back of a car, and someone says to them 'u guys alright?' and the sheep all go BAAAAAH

* * *

Beatrice was somewhere Else.

She's sitting on the ground. She's in the desert. She can't _eat_ it, for some reason, even though she wants to, in that weird, dream logic way. Something's preventing her.

There's a muffled noise in the background, like thunder. Beatrice can't pinpoint the origin.

George Washington was sitting across from her.

"...Huh?" Beatrice said, eloquently.

"If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter," George responded.

"What," Beatrice said.

George stared. "Sheeple."

Beatrice stared back, growing nervous, "Um. No thanks."

She stood, and walked through a door. Suddenly she's on a grassy hilltop, surrounded by sheep.

"Oh," Beatrice said, pleasantly surprised. She wandered closer, only to quickly retract when she noticed that the sheep had people faces, "Oh, _fuck_ no."

Beatrice tried to walk away, but the sheep kept biting her, with their gross human mouths. Beatrice can feel saliva all over her arms.

"Stop!" she cried out, and tried to smack one of them, only to be tugged in the opposite direction and down

down

 _down_.

Beatrice is surrounded by fog. At least it's not sheep, she thinks. In fact, she's completely alone. It's too quiet.

 _Aren't swamps supposed to have bugs?_

There's someone in the distance, and Beatrice ran for them, but the closer she gets the farther they seem, and the more overgrown the swamp gets until she's running in a forest. She can't yell out to them, her throat feels too thick, and if she can just get _there_ -

Beatrice ran smack into the Doctor. Her nose started to throb, "Ow! Fuck!"

"Bea!" He cried out, and hugged her, "Have you seen a fox with the face of a person running around here?"

"What?" Beatrice replied.

"A ferson, you could say. Or maybe a pox?" The Doctor continued.

"What? No."

"Oh." the Doctor said, looking dejected.

"I saw some sheeple, though," Beatrice added.

" _Sheeple_?"

"And George Washington."

"What?"

There was a rustle in the bushes next to them. Beatrice and the Doctor stared until a fox with a human face leaped out and ran off.

"There! After it!" the Doctor cried. He took off after it.

"What?" Beatrice ran after him.

They exited the forest, gradually, reentering the hilly area. It looked close to rain.

The sheeple were back. They tugged at Beatrice's clothes with their gross teeth and mouths, and-

"Shit— Doc— Doctor!" Beatrice shouted, but the Doctor didn't hear. He ran off, too focused on catching the fox that he couldn't catch.

George Washington was there again. He stood casually in the sheep field, even though he was being bitten and licked as well.

"Sucks to be you," he said.

"Wow!" Beatrice replied sarcastically.

"If I were in your position," George said, picking at his nails, "I'd definitely be a little tired."

"Excuse me?" Beatrice said, "Fuck you."

"Why don't you just join the masses, with the rest of your kind," George said.

"What the hell does that even mean?" Beatrice said, "That's rich, coming from a racist asshole like yourself."

"I don't control the slave trade." George drawled, "I just live in it."

"You're dead." Beatrice glared, fed up with the president.

"Got me there, buddy," George said.

"Oh my god, _bye_." Beatrice snarled and tried to kick away the sheep again. Where was the Doctor? She needed help.

"You're not looking," George called, insistent.

Beatrice looked. George Washington was wearing a white button-up shirt and khaki shorts. He looked like a frat boy.

"What?" Beatrice asked, exasperated.

"You're not _looking_." He said, and vanished.

Beatrice blinked. She looked down to survey the sheeple. Except, they weren't _all_ sheeple. One was a goat with an alien face. It was green and had one, big eye in the middle. It looked sort of like Mike Wazowski.

It bounded away.

"Hey!" Beatrice yelled and took off after it.

They ran down the hills and back into the swamp, where the water turned to mud and tried to suck Beatrice down. The goat could walk on the water.

"You're kidding me!" Beatrice cried.

The goat pranced away. The water got deeper, the mud stickier, until-

The goat was gone.

"Shit."

Beatrice's foot slipped, and she fell under.

She drifted down in the water and listened to thunder, down and down and down until she was on the floor of a warehouse.

She wasn't wet at _all_. That was weird. Also, the Doctor was there.

"Doc!" Beatrice cried. The Doctor turned, looking a little strained. Beatrice ran over to him.

"Bea, where have you been?" He asked.

"There was— there was this goat! It had a weird face, like Mike Wazowski!"

"Mike Wazowski!" The Doctor said, "He must be an egartlan. Green skin, one eye, very good at playing chess. On a goat, though?"

"Wait, did you find your fox?" Beatrice asked.

The Doctor frowned. It was all very exaggerated.

"George said I'm not looking close enough," Beatrice said, trying to be helpful.

"George?"

"Uh, As in Mr. President?" Beatrice offered, "He looks more like a frat boy now."

Behind them, there was a clack of heels on a concrete floor. It was the goat.

"Mike Wazowski!" Beatrice said, at the same time the Doctor cried, "An egartlan goat!"

Behind them, there was a squeak. It was the fox, with its human-looking face. The Doctor almost immediately went running after it, but Beatrice grabbed a hold of his jacket and yanked him backward.

"Wait wait wait wait!" She spoke fast, digging her heels into the ground, "He— he said that we were missing something!"

"What could we possibly be missing?" the Doctor asked.

The goat opened its mouth and thunder came out. Except, it _wasn't_ thunder. It was a muffled polaroid noise, and the Doctor and Beatrice could finally hear it now that the goat was standing right in front of them.

"The camera!" they said, simultaneously.

"The goat, get the goat!" Beatrice shouted.

They ran and they _needed_ to get it, because how else would they escape from this crazy fever dream reality?

Also, Beatrice had seen this in a cartoon once. It had worked then.

"Go left!" the Doctor yelled.

"Right!" Beatrice countered.

"No, left— oh!"

"Run!"

The two of them split, running around stacks of shipping crates to head off the goat. The Doctor gave a flying leap and tackled it.

Beatrice was somewhere _Else_.

But no, it was the TARDIS. Beatrice was lying on the TARDIS floor with a pounding head.

"Fuck," she mumbled, trying to prop herself up on her elbows. It didn't work, her head hurt too much. She stayed on the ground.

There were footsteps behind her, "Language." the Doctor said. He didn't sound too worse for wear.

With the Doctor's help, Beatrice sat up.

"Everything hurts," Beatrice said, joints aching.

"I bought the camera from an egartlan flea market, I completely forgot about it!" He said, "Horrible pranksters, egartlans. Never funny. Everything alright though, really?"

"Ow," Beatrice said.

The Doctor scanned her with his sonic, which just succeeded in making a horrible ringing noise in Beatrice's ear. She kind of wanted to cry. Or sleep. Probably sleep.

"My head hurts." Beatrice finally said.

On impulse, the Doctor ruffled Beatrice's head. She flinched. He winced.

"Sorry." they both said at the same time.

Silence.

The Doctor squatted to pick up the polaroid from where it was lying on the floor, "I'll just… get rid of this then."

He left.

Beatrice felt like that could have gone better. Mostly, she just felt like she needed a nap.

* * *

Yeehaw lads

I'm suuuuch a hypocrite, i say i don't like fake dream sequences then i go write one? I just needed a way for the doctor and breatrice to kind of bond, and this was the fastest way i could think. Nothing gets people closer together faster than george washington!

...no? Okay then.

Also, does it seem like beatrice gets headaches often? Hmm… interesting….. Wherever could that be leading…. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Oh also, ponds next chapter! :))))

Reviews:

That's Balderdash - hahah, i have keyboard shortcuts on all my devices for them! They're the best. I think you can find them if you google 'text faces'? Also i'm glad beatrice's actions seem real to u! I want to skip to fun stuff but i can't ignore homesickness hahah.

NoVacancyMind - i actually haven't really seen any of classic who hahah. Does it seem like i have? I've sucked up some information through osmosis it seems like. Where do u watch classic who? I'd love to start! :)) and omg i don't know if anyone's ever called my writing 'superior' before, omg that's such a compliment thank u so much!

CatLorde - haha im glad ur enjoying it!

PrincessMagic - i hope you enjoyed it! :))

TacoXI - omg im glad! Im happy ur liking the story so far its so much fun to get reviews like these.


	14. yeehaw

Sorry if the excessive swearing in this bothers anyone. In my defense, the rating _is_ t for teen. The swearing is why hahah.

* * *

It took Beatrice 30 minutes to find the console room this time.

The upside was, now the Doctor was going to introduce her to the Ponds! Which could go good or bad. Or worse.

Beatrice's anxiety must have shown on her face because the Doctor turned to her from where he was piloting the console and smiled.

"You'll get along wonderfully, don't worry!"

"Are you sure?" Beatrice asked, hanging onto the side railing to avoid getting flung to the floor during flight.

" _Yeah_ ," he enthused, "I'm sure of it!"

The TARDIS landed with familiar wheezing. Beatrice's heart couldn't help but skip a beat.

Before, when she'd met the Doctor, she hadn't had any time to _think_ about meeting him. Everything had happened too fast to worry about what he would think of her. Now, with the Ponds, it was completely different. Beatrice had watched their lives for _years._ She knew intimate details about them. They knew nothing about her.

What would they think about her?

The Doctor went to open the doors, then stopped. He turned and quick as a cat bounded down the hallway.

"Doctor?" Beatrice called after him, freaking out a little.

"Hang on, I almost forgot, I'll just be a moment!" He responded, voice growing smaller and smaller.

Beatrice hung onto the railing for dear life.

Should she… wait here? Or go out?

No, absolutely not. She's having trouble standing.

Then, the unimaginable happened. The door opened and Amy and Rory Pond walked in. Rory was eating toast. They were talking about something but trailed off when they noticed Beatrice standing there, looking at them like a deer in the headlights.

"Uh, hi?" Rory asked, a little unsure.

"Hi," Amy said, less unsure but still confused.

 _FUCK_! Beatrice thought.

"Um. Hi." Beatrice said.

 _Hi? HI? You sound stupid. Fuck!_

"Who are you?" Amy asked, Scottish accent as strong as it was in the show. Something about her outfit looked familiar.

"Beatrice," Beatrice said, unable to say anything else.

"I'm Rory, and this is Amy." Rory said, "Do you… know the Doctor?"

"Why would she _not_ know the Doctor?" Amy asked in slightly hushed tones.

"Well, I don't know," Rory responded, also hushed.

 _OH DEAR GOD THIS IS GOING HORRIBLY_. Beatrice thought.

Miraculously, _miraculously,_ the Doctor ran back into the room.

"Oh, good, you've met!" he said, acting oblivious to the personal crisis Beatrice was having in her head, "Bea's going to be tagging along for a while."

"Where did the two of you meet?" Amy asked, jumping up to the console.

"Kansas." Beatrice blurted.

Rory looked confused. He mouthed to himself, " _Kansas?"_

"Kansas?" Amy asked.

"You know, Unit, monsters, the usual." the Doctor explained, not really explaining anything at all. He continued before anyone could get a word in edgewise, "But anyways! I know just where to go now. How does everyone feel about the Day of the Dead festival, Dia de los Muertos!"

Beatrice perked up, "I like Day of the Dead!"

The Doctor winked, "Attagirl! But it would help if you don't get crumbs on my _console, Rory!_ " he snapped, and shooed said culprit away.

Rory shoved what was left of the toast in his mouth.

The TARDIS whooshed into flight. Beatrice tried not to pass out.

It wasn't Mexico. Or at least, it wasn't Dia de los Muertos. Dust stretched out as far as the eye could see, speckled by the random cacti and tumbleweed. The sun beat down mercilessly.

"This… isn't Mexico." Beatrice mumbled to herself.

Amy heard her, "Definitely not."

"I wonder where, though," Rory added.

"Good question, Rory!" the Doctor bounced out of the TARDIS, "I wonder what will happen if we go explore."

Alarm bells went off in Beatrice's head. She didn't say anything.

The four of them (because it _was_ the four of them now that Beatrice was with them, not three like it was supposed to be) wandered down a hill and over to what looked like a road. The Doctor and Rory started bickering about Rory getting crumbs on the console.

And then they got to the town.

"Mercy," the Doctor read the large sign, "Eighty-one residents."

Beatrice froze. She remembered; the TARDIS malfunctioning (or maybe not), the wild west town. The robot sheriff.

This was an _episode_.

 _MOTHERFUCKER_.

Beatrice scrambled to keep up with the Doctor, Amy, and Rory as they crossed the small wall of sticks and stones and wandered into Mercy. Should she say something? Anything? Or would it make the Doctor angry?

God, what _happens_ in this episode? Beatrice had only watched it once when it was originally released. How could she have been so stupid? She should have watched it a million times.

Wait, what comes after Mercy?

Dammit, why couldn't she remember? There was a town with a cyborg. The Doctor becomes sheriff, maybe. Or… not? He leaves town at one point, on a horse named Susan. Rory loses his charger. And… the townsfolk might turn on them?

Beatrice didn't need to remember the episode to know that things would go wrong.

The residents of the town were already staring at them with acidic glances from the safety of the wooden buildings. No one approached the four time travelers. Nobody offered an explanation for the electric street lamp outside the post office that sat sparking ominously.

"That's not right." the Doctor snapped his fingers and stated the obvious.

"It's a street lamp," Rory said.

"An electric street lamp about ten years too early." the Doctor countered. Okay, Beatrice didn't remember this part.

"It's only a few years out," Rory said.

"That's what you said when you left your phone charger in Henry the Eighth's en-suite." the Doctor said, slipping his sonic back into his coat pocket.

"Hey, Amy, didn't you marry him?" Beatrice said without thinking about it.

Amy and Rory didn't really take notice of the comment, Amy going "What?" without looking at Beatrice. The Doctor, on the other hand, turned with an alarmed look on his face.

"Beatrice," he said. "You can't do that."

What?

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Dread flushed through Beatrice's limbs. "Sorry," she said.

The Doctor rubbed her on the shoulder and looked her in the eye, "No future business, okay?"

"No future vision," Beatrice said.

"Wait, what? Future vision?" Rory asked.

God, this definitely wasn't supposed to happen. Why did Beatrice have to open her big mouth?

Amy noticed the people staring at them from dark corners, "Doctor, um…"

The Doctor didn't notice, instead still looking at Beatrice intently. She avoided his direct eye contact.

The wind whistled and swept dust into everyone's hair.

"Doctor." Amy insisted.

The Doctor didn't listen. He turned, one arm around Beatrice's shoulders, and sauntered off, in his own thoughts. Somehow, he'd gotten a toothpick and was gnawing on it, like they did in old cowboy flicks.

Beatrice worried. Where did the electricity come from? Was it important to the plot? Could she say anything now? Definitely not. Not after the Henry the Eighth mess up.

Everything felt a little like an amusement park, like stepping into the wild west version of Disneyland. Nothing felt real as the Doctor strolled up to the saloon and sauntered in, Beatrice right next to him.

Conversation stopped dead when they entered. The Doctor, ever oblivious, went to the bar.

"Tea. But the strong stuff. Leave the bag in." he drawled. He played with the toothpick in his mouth and got it stuck under his lip. Beatrice wondered if she focused hard enough, she might disappear.

"What're you doing here, son?" the barkeep, a pretty blonde lady, asked.

"Son?" the Doctor laughed, looked around, noticed nobody was laughing with him, and turned back to the lady, "You can stay."

"Sir?" an African American man in a nice suit stood, "Might I inquire who you is?"

"Of course, I'm the Doctor, this is-"

Everyone in the room stood up. Beatrice's heart skipped another beat. All this stress couldn't be good for her.

"No need to stand," the Doctor continued, "You see that? Manners. Oh," a bearded man in a ratty suit was measuring the Doctor's shoulders.

"Thank you. Er, But I don't need a new suit." the Doctor said.

"I'm the undertaker, sir." the undertaker said.

"Oh, fuck," Beatrice whispered.

"Language." the Doctor responded.

A young man in a brown suit and a bowler hat stepped forward. He said, "I got a question. Is you an alien?"

"Well, er, bit personal. It's all relative, isn't it? I mean, I think you're the aliens, but in this context, yes. Yes, I supposed I am."

The saloon erupted into movement. The Doctor was hoisted up and away, out into the sunshine, and Beatrice, Amy, and Rory were dragged after him.

* * *

Yeehaw, parders, welcome to mercy. i cant wait to make cowboy puns for the next few weeks and have absolutely zero people judge me, YEEHAW

Reviews:

That's Balderdash - I'm glad you liked it! I was worried it would be too weird hahah. I'm glad it landed.

Catlorde - the doctor was in it too, yeah! Shared camera hallucination hahah. I'm glad you liked it!

NoVacancyMind - omg i LOVE rory, he's so relatable. Were their reactions accurate enough here? And i should defs give britbox a try, i deeeefinitely want to watch the old eps omg that would be so much fun. Throwback to the time i was a baby fan and googled 'doctor who episode 1' and DID NOT get any good results lmao


	15. country boyyy i love youuuu

Oops yesterday was sunday wasn't it

* * *

"Guys!" the Doctor shouted. Amy shrieked.

There were too many _people_ everywhere, pulling and pushing and grabbing at Beatrice's arms, dragging her along in a mad dash to the edge of town.

Beatrice panicked. She snarled and hit the nearest person to her, "Get _off!"_

It happened to be the barkeep.

"Don't think we won't kill you!" she yelled in response.

 _What? What?_ Beatrice thought, frantic. "Don't touch me!" She still shouted. She could walk on her damn own, thank you very _much_!

"Leave her alone!" Rory shouted, "Leave him alone!" He looked at the Doctor.

"Rory!" The Doctor responded, "Don't worry, everything is completely under control! Guys, guys, _guys_!"

The townsfolk tossed the Doctor past the border of the town, where he rolled in the dirt and flailed to his feet.

"Ow." He said, indignantly. He tried to reenter, but the townsfolk all drew revolvers quick as you could say, 'Don't shoot!'

Beatrice was sweating. What happens next? What happens _next_? Should she do something? She couldn't, not with some guy keeping a death grip on her one arm. What, did he think she was going to make a run for it? They all had guns. She wasn't _that_ stupid.

Distantly, a man appeared on the horizon in a flash of blue light.

"He's coming. Oh God, he's coming." said the preacher. The man next to Beatrice gulped.

"What the fuck." Beatrice said under her breath.

"Preacher. Say something." another man said.

The preacher began to pray. Crickets chirped. Everything was bright.

The man beyond the town- the _robot_ \- appeared again, this time closer. The Doctor turned and saw him. He looked to cross back into the town, but guns remained raised.

 _God, isn't this the part where something happens? Someone saves them? Amy, do something_!

The preacher continued to pray.

The robot got closer.

 _Come on!  
_

Gunshot. Beatrice yelped.

"You! Bowtie. Get back across the line." A scruffy, brown haired man called. He holstered his revolver and stepped forward, "Now."

The Doctor hopped back across the line, and the robot stopped. His boots made a noise like someone setting down a tool box, all heavy metal sitting in one place. His face held no expression.

The sunshine shimmered and he was gone.

"Isaac." the guy from before said, "He said he was a doctor. An _alien_ doctor."

"That any reason to hand him to his death?" Isaac, their savior, responded. He seemed tired, like he'd had this discussion many times before.

"Isaac, it could be him." insisted the guy.

"You know it ain't." Isaac responded. He turned, and strode back into town, nodding his head at Amy and Beatrice respectively as he passed.

 _This guy's got balls_ , Beatrice thought, a little hysterically.

* * *

When they stepped inside the sheriff's building Beatrice realized she hadn't really been able to see anything outside. The sun was too damn _bright_ in Arizona or New Mexico or wherever the hell they were. How was everybody else able to see? Granted, Beatrice had a _thing_ with sunlight- a personal grudge- but she still couldn't help but put a hand on the wall to steady herself as her eyes tried to readjust to the relative darkness.

"You okay?" Amy asked, checking on her.

"Mhm." Beatrice nodded, shot Amy a grateful smile. Or, tried to. She couldn't really see her.

Beatrice was _probably_ light sensitive, but she'd never had a real diagnosis or anything (did you even need one for it?), so _eh_.

"What happens if someone crosses the line?" the Doctor was asking Isaac. Isaac tossed him a stetson. Beatrice saw a little hole in it, swimming in the darkness.

"Ah, well!" the Doctor perked up, "He wasn't a very good shot then!"

"He was aiming for the hat." Isaac said.

"He shoots people's _hats_?" The Doctor asked, incredulous.

"I think it was a warning shot." Amy helped.

Who was Isaac, anyway? The sheriff? He seemed like he dealt with weird shit all the time. He seemed _tired_. Like, emotionally. Beatrice could relate.

"Ah! No. Yes, I see! Erm," The Doctor hummed.

"What does he want? Has he issued some kind of demand?" Asked Amy.

"Says he wants us to give him the alien doctor." Isaac answered.

Wait. No, that wasn't right. It wasn't the Doctor, Beatrice thought. Maybe it was someone else? But, wasn't the robot supposed to be good?

"We were aiming for Mexico," Amy was saying, "The Doctor was taking us to see the Day of the Dead Festival."

"Mexico's two hundred miles due south."

Oh. So that's where they were.

"Well, that's what happens when people get toast crumbs on the console." the Doctor grumped to Rory, loudly, "Anyway, I think it's about time I met him, don't you?" He hopped up onto the desk.

"Who?" Isaac asked.

The Doctor continued, "The chap outside said I could be the alien doctor, but you said I wasn't, so you already know who it is." he laughed, "Two alien doctors. We're like buses. Resident eighty one, I presume, so beloved by the townsfolk he warranted an alteration to the sign. Probably because he rigged up these electrics, and I'm guessing he's in here, because if half the town suddenly wanted to throw me to my death, this is where I'd want to be."

Isaac looked indignant, "I don't know what you-"

"Alright Isaac."

Beatrice jumped. Behind them, in the cells, a man was sitting. _How_ long had he been there? He'd just been sitting there this entire time, completely silent?

"I think the time for subterfuge has passed." He was a little short, with a bowler hat and classes, and he seemed oddly resigned to something. He said, "Good afternoon. Mr name is Kahler-Jex. I'm the doctor."

He had a dark swirl down the right side of his face and oh holy fuck Beatrice had seen this guy in a dream.

Like, recently. _Really_ recently. She probably wouldn't have remembered him if he hadn't appeared in the dream of her grandfather's hospital room.

Beatrice clutched the front of her shirt and held her breath.

* * *

I'm on spring break! yippee!

Also next part is part 16 can you BELIEVE IT? i've never had a published fic this long before

How do these latest parts feel? Is it a little stale b/c it's an episode, or have y'all not seen this one very often either? I'm trying to keep it Fresh but, u kno, it's an Episode. Things have to happen a certain way. Beatrice is just caught in the crossfire hahah, pun intended. Let me know what u guys think.

Reviews:

Pfannkuchen07 - omg im glad it's relatable! I always read fics where oc's remember every little detail and im like. girl HOW. i can't even remember how many cups of water i've had in a day.

That's Balderdash - yesss omg i'm excited, i say yeehaw all the time in real life and my friend yells at me hahah. U kno, i believe all conflict in the wild west could have been solved if cowboy town planners had just made the towns big enough for everyone. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

NoVacancyMind - oooooh yes amy and beatrice haven't really gotten a chance to talk yet. As night falls…. As the nightingale flies… they will hahah.


	16. i wanna be a cowboy, babeyy

The Doctor was incredibly enthusiastic about Kahler-Jex.

"The Kahler!" he said, shaking Jex's hand nonstop, "I love the Kahler. They're one of the most ingenious races in the galaxy. Seriously, they could build a spaceship out of Tupperware and moss!"

"All right," Amy nodded supportively and guided the Doctor to sit in a chair, "How did you get here?"

Jex likewise sat in a chair, "My craft crashed about a mile or so out of town. I would have died if Isaac and the others hadn't pulled me from the wreckage."

"And you stayed! As their doctor." the Doctor said.

"On my world, I was a surgeon, so it seemed logical. And it gave me an opportunity to repay my debt to them."

Isaac snorted, "Listen to him. Talking like it was nothing. Tell them about the cholera."

Beatrice bit her lip. Something wasn't right. She couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but something _wasn't right_. God, she should have watched the episode more times. Or like, old cowboy flicks, or _something_. She'd seen Magnificent Seven, in high school, but something told her there wouldn't be nearly as many cowboys in this one as there were in that.

What the fuck. Seriously, what the fuck! Why was she thinking about this? What had her life come to?

"Using my ship as a generator, I was able to rig up some rudimentary heating and lighting for the town." Jex was saying.

"So why does the Gunslinger want you?" the Doctor asked, rather matter o' factly.

Beatrice maybe knew why. Kahler-Jex had done something.

 _Awful, terrible things,_ he'd said in the dream. What had he _done_ , though? Beatrice stared at the man, tried to figure out his secrets. To _remember_.

"They're scared, that's all," Jex said, "You can hardly blame them."

"Them being scared scares me." Isaac responded, "War only ended five years back."

War? What war?

What time did cowboys run around again? The 1800s? So that means…. Oh, wow. Civil war? They were that far back in time?

Beatrice felt a thrill of exhilaration for a second before she mentally slapped herself. _No, bad Bea! Pay attention! Time travel is cool, but it's less cool if you're dead!_

"Did you try to repair your craft?" the Doctor asked, "Surely someone with your skills…"

"It really was very badly damaged." Jex insisted.

The Doctor smiled at him. Then, he stood. "We evacuate the town. Our ship's just over the hills, room for everyone. I'll pop out, bring it back here, Robert's your uncle."

That's... That's not how the saying goes, but okay.

"Really?" Amy asked, "Simple as that. No crazy schemes, no negotiations."

The Doctor responded, "I've matured. I'm twelve hundred years old now." _WHAT_. "Plus I don't want to miss The Archers."

Who? Wait, he's that fucking old already?

 _WHAT IS GOING ON._

"Oh, so you're not even a tiny bit curious?" Amy asked.

"Why would I be curious?" the Doctor stopped by the door, "It's a mysterious space cowboy assassin. Curious? Of course I'm not curious."

"Son?" Isaac called after him, "You've still got to get past the Gunslinger. How you going to do that?"

The Doctor put on a stetson, slow and all cool like.

"With a little sleight of hand."

He exited stage left.

No, wait. He popped back in, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

"Actually, Rory, Isaac, I'll need your help."

* * *

Beatrice ran after the Doctor, out into the too-bright sunlight.

Didn't the cyborg want to fix Jex's ship or something like that? Or, maybe not. He kept shooting people. Or maybe he _would_ fix the ship, in the future? They were from the same place, it made sense that he might know how.

God, the air was so hot and dry. Why did anyone ever come here? Beatrice got that some people wanted to be cowboys, but all these women in skirts- she saw a few hanging out by the watering hole- had no excuse, they didn't even get to wear _shorts_.

The Doctor, still in his stetson, finally noticed Beatrice.

"Wait, Bea, you can't come with me." He said.

"Oh, I know, I just want to-" Why did she follow again? It was more of a reflex than anything else.

"What, want to what?" he interrupted.

"I… I want to meet the horse?"

The Doctor looked at her, like, _really_ looked. He noticed she was squinting and placed the stetson on her head. It blocked on some sun and gave her a little relief.

The Doctor grumbled something like _humans and their animals_ and turned, walked up to the Preacher, "Can I borrow your horse, please? It's official Marshal business." He mounted the horse slowly. Beatrice wondered when the last time he'd ridden a horse had been.

The preacher responded, "He's called Joshua. It's from the bible. It means deliverer."

Beatrice shimmied up next to the horse and held out her hand for him to sniff. The horse mostly just looked like he was in the market for treats, and snuffed when he realized Beatrice didn't have any.

The Doctor said, "No, he isn't. I speak horse. He's called Susan, and he wants you to respect his life choices."

The Doctor rode off into the daylight, leaving the preacher shaking his head in disappointment.

"It's from Mary Poppins." Beatrice supplied, helpfully.

"What?"

"What the Doctor said. He was quoting something," she paused when she realized movies hadn't been made yet, "Um. S-Sorry? Uh, bye."

Beatrice scampered off. Yikes, that was awkward.

What should she even do now?

Beatrice stood in the middle of the wild west town and kicked her boots in the dirt. It would be the safe thing, to go back to the vintage police station or whatever the hell it was called, and just settle in for the plot. The plot that she didn't remember.

God, _why_ couldn't she remember anything?

You know what? Whatever, it didn't matter. It was too late to worry about it.

Which, like, meant she'd still worry about it, but it's the thought that counts.

Also, people were staring at her, so Beatrice figured she should just go back inside.

* * *

They were waiting.

For the Doctor, or Isaac, or whoever. Beatrice couldn't remember what could come next, but she did know this: the Doctor probably wasn't coming back with the TARDIS. What did he find that stopped him?

"When this is all done, do you want us to take you home?" Amy asked Jex.

There was also Amy. Beatrice tiptoed around the building, bored and wanting to do something but also nervous that Amy was gonna talk to her. Say _words_ to her. Ask her _questions_. If that happened, Beatrice thought she might implode from anxiety.

"Thank you," Jex responded, "but I've already given everything I have to the Kahler. My skills, energy, all that was good in me. Here, I could start afresh. I could remember myself and help people. That's all I ever wanted to do, end suffering."

Why did that sound so suspicious? Would it still sound suspicious if Beatrice didn't know anything about him?

Amy moved and grabbed Isaac's coat from the desk. "Here," she said, and put it over Jex's shoulders, like a doting mother hen. The gesture made Beatrice sad for some reason she couldn't pinpoint.

"You're a mother, aren't you?" Jex said to Amy, looking like he'd just noticed her for the first time.

"How did you know?" Amy asked.

Beatrice zoned out. She went over to the back window, gazed out. There was a stable back there, and some horses. Hmm. If the sun wasn't so bright, she'd maybe go say hi.

"And what about you, Beatrice?" Amy turned to Beatrice, and everything stopped.

"What?" Beatrice said.

"I mean, you're probably not a mother, but how old are you?" Amy elaborated.

"Oh," that was easy to answer, "I just turned 18."

"Hey, congrats."

"T-thanks."

"And the Doctor said he found you in Kansas? Why's that?"

"Oh, um. I woke up in a cornfield with no memory?" Beatrice said, then rambled, "In the middle of the night. Then, there was a hospital, then a monster? I don't know, the Doctor was there, that's- that's when we met."

"Wow," Amy said with wide eyes.

The lights flickered.

 _OH GOD WHY DID YOU SAY THAT_ Beatrice thought.

"You don't remember anything?" Amy asked.

"Oh! No, like. Just how I got there? I remember like, who I am." Beatrice clarified.

"That's good. Is the Doctor helping you get back home?"

Home.

"No," Beatrice said, voice suddenly very small.

Amy, whose arms were crossed, stepped forward. She awkwardly patted Beatrice on the back, trying to comfort her. Beatrice understood how Jex knew Amy was a mother now.

Then, an alarm wailed in the distance.

That most definitely did not happen in the wild west very often.

Amy ran outside, Jex and Beatrice following, and they stood on the porch and looked out into the afternoon as if they could see the source.

"That's the alarm on my ship," Jex said, perplexed.

Beatrice remembered.

"Maybe the Doctor wants to get it working again?" Amy tried.

"But that wasn't the plan," Jex said, alarm barely hidden in his voice, "He's not following the plan."

"Welcome to my world," Amy said, but Jex didn't appear to be listening. Beatrice watched him warily as he walked with a purpose back into the building.

She had a bad feeling about this.

"Amy," Beatrice said softly. Amy looked at her, "Jex looks worried." Like, uber worried. Like a man who has nothing left to lose worried.

 _I've done terrible things_ , that's what he said in the dream.

Amy followed Jex. Beatrice followed Amy. Amy closed the doors behind her.

" _Amy,_ " Beatrice squeaked in a panic.

"I'm sorry, Amy, Beatrice. He really should have followed the plan," Kahler-Jex said, holding a revolver.

* * *

Y'all know that the working title for this used to be 'corn'? What if i'd just posted it like that, 'corn' by bird police. Fuckin hilarious.

Anyway, my spring break's over and im sad, b/c that means i have to go back to living in a dorm. :( UPSIDE is, that'll only be forrrr a month and a half longer? Baby steps baby steps

Beatrice is based on me from senior yr of high school. I thought i was pretty okay shit and then i went to college and had a major depressive episode, yeehaw. I started watching dw b/c it was like. SUPER comforting and it just all around made me feel better from where i was curled up in a ball under 20 blankets in my dorm room. Now im on meds and i have new friends and coping skills and health care and everything! Beatrice still has a ways to go until she can sleep.

Reviews:

TheLightBehindHerEyes - omgggg, im glad i made ur day! Have so much fun watching vine comps every time i title a chapter, hahah. I'm glad ur enjoying everything! :)))) i've been posting consistently once every week, fingers crossed it holds up

That's Balderdash - thank you! :)))


	17. how we do it here in texas

IT'S AN UPDATE! NOT ON APRIL FOOLS BECAUSE I WAS 2 DAYS LATE! SURPRISE!

* * *

Beatrice didn't like guns.

They were loud, and dangerous, and all around unpleasant to be around. She found that she liked having a gun pointed at her even less.

Jex was rambling as he rifled through the items in his cell. He went, "Isaac says he doesn't care about my past, but things may have been uncovered that even he might struggle to forgive, so it's best we beat a hasty retreat."

"We?" Amy asked from besides Beatrice, "We're coming with you?"

"Maybe not you, per se, but maybe your younger friend here. She's smaller, easier to move around. It's unlikely the Gunslinger will shoot if I'm with her. As far as I can tell, he's programmed to take innocent lives only if absolutely necessary."

Beatrice couldn't breathe. Like, really, she _couldn't breathe_. The walls were closing in around her and the sun coming out of the windows was _too bright_ and she was shaking, quivering like a leaf as Jex motioned for her to step forward.

"You're not taking her anywhere," Amy said.

"You really don't have much of a choice," Jex said and opened the door, only to get a gun to the back of his neck.

"Doc?" it was Isaac, holding the gun, face twisted in confusion, "What are you doing?"

"Oh," Jex seemed to deflate. He put his hands in the air and tried to look apologetic, "Isaac."

"I'll ask again, Doc. What are you doing?" Isaac said sternly. He entered, pushing Jex back with the gun.

"Are you okay?" Rory asked, coming in after him. He went to Amy.

"I'm fine. Beatrice?"

Beatrice couldn't breathe she _couldn't breathe_ _this couldn't happen again it wouldn't-_

She passed out.

* * *

" _Sit down!"_

Beatrice awoke to raised voices.

She was used to passing out. She'd done it ever since first grade when she'd slipped on the ice and gotten a gash on her knee. The pain had been enough to send her falling right after first bell. It happened when she was in pain, like in first grade, but it could also happen when she was overwhelmed. Anxious.

Falling into a brand new dimension where she got to meet fictional characters? Yeah, Beatrice would agree she was long overdue for passing out (again. Technically, she'd passed out for the first time by the corn field, in front of that guy with the dog. God, that seemed like ages ago).

The Doctor was talking in the background, barely concealed rage in his voice.

"A weapon. Jex built it. He and his team took volunteers, told them they'd be selected for special training, then experimented on them, fused their bodies with weaponry, and programmed them to kill."

Oh, so they'd gotten to that part already.

 _I've done terrible things_.

Jex the scumbag had finally made the Doctor pissed off.

Beatrice was on the floor. Her eyes were open, yet not quite seeing, but she could make out shapes. Jex by the wall, someone standing close by. She could really only tell who was who based on the colors of their clothes.

Well. Isaac and Rory were dressed too similarly, so Beatrice couldn't tell them apart. The Doctor, too, kind of, but he had a unique shape (kinda lanky). Besides, he was talking and pacing, so it was easier to tell him apart.

Either Isaac or Rory was kneeling by Beatrice. It was probably Rory. He was the nurse, wasn't he?

"Okay. Why? Why would you do that, Doc?" Isaac spoke, and _yup_ he was the one standing by Jex. Rory was by Beatrice.

"You're awake," Rory said, and there was pressure on Beatrice's wrist and was he checking her pulse? Weird. She usually only passed out around teachers, and they _never_ knew what to do.

She'd be fine, she just needed to wait for the blood to rush back to her head.

Jex was talking of war and armies and whatever, but Beatrice didn't really care. She wiggled her toes.

"Are you okay?" Rory asked.

Beatrice mhm'd.

Oh, the Doctor was _angry_. Like, _really angry_. It sounded like it was taking everything he had to prevent himself from decking Jex right here and now.

Part of Beatrice was worried by that, but the other half was still kind of loopy from having passed out.

The Doctor finished his tirade. He paced angrily before eventually squatting down by Beatrice as well.

Hahah. Squatting.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a slightly more balanced tone.

"Mhm." Beatrice repeated.

"She hasn't said anything else." Rory added.

"'M fine." Beatrice mumbled. She was kind of coming off her fainting high. The Doctor looked disgruntled and it was making her nervous again.

"So, what are we going to do with Jex," Rory asked.

The Doctor grumbled. Rory waited for a reply, but none came. He rolled his eyes and stood, went over to Isaac and Amy. They started talking in hushed tones.

"Why did you pass out?" the Doctor asked Beatrice.

"Anxious." She responded, "Jex had a gun."

The Doctor squeezed her hand.

"Doctor, tell him." Amy said.

"Hmm?" The Doctor looked up, grimaced, "Yes. I don't know. Whatever Amy said."

Jex spoke up, "Looking at you, Doctor, is like looking into a mirror, almost. There's rage there, like me. Guilt, like me. Solitude. Everything but the nerve to do what needs to be done. Thank the gods my people weren't relying on you to save them."

The Doctor's face contorted in rage and he stood, so quickly his knees cracked, and he spun on Jex with a shout.

"No. No, but these people are! Out! Out! _Out!_ "

There was a flurry of movement and voices and suddenly Beatrice was alone, lying on the floor of the sheriff's office.

Her head hurt. She wondered if she just… closed her eyes for a bit…

Beatrice woke up.

All was silent. Beatrice watched the dust particles dance in the sunlight by the window. How long had she been asleep? Not that long, for sure.

She pushed herself to a sitting position and groaned. Her head still hurt.

What happened after the Doctor went bonkers? He pushed Jex to the edge of town or something, or…

...or, something.

Beatrice pulled out her phone. It read at 3 am.

She should maybe go outside and check, see if everything was alright, but… god, her head hurt, and she really didn't want to go back out into the sunlight.

What would the Doctor and Amy and Rory and everyone be doing now? The Doctor, throwing Jex past the boundary, pointing a gun at him, shouting about victims and understanding. Amy, trying to retaliate, claiming the Doctor's changed, that he shouldn't have traveled alone for so long. Why did he do that, why did he isolate himself, he needs people, even if they're strange people who pass out at the slightest sign of trouble.

Whoa. That was. That was something. How did Beatrice remember that if she didn't remember anything from earlier?

How did that come so easily?

Okay, what next? Amy talks sense into the Doctor, the Doctor agrees to let Jex come back over the line, and…

...and Isaac gets shot.

Breathing labored, Beatrice hauled herself to her feet. A man's about to die, but maybe if she can get there fast enough-

She stumbled, ended up on her ass. She's not moving anywhere fast anytime soon, she realized, and deflated. She could have stopped it, right?

But who was she, to presume such things? To hold life and death in the palms of her hands?

Ugh. She needed a glass of water.

Did… Does the wild west have plumbing?

Beatrice was gazing around the office, trying to figure out if that weird box in the corner was a sink or really just a weird box when the Doctor walked in.

He closed the door and leaned on it heavily. Beatrice looked at him without saying anything.

The Doctor breathed deeply. Beatrice saw this, and saw how he seemed to have additional weight on his shoulders, and patted the floor next to her: an open invitation.

The Doctor sat next to Beatrice on the floor.

Beatrice didn't say anything. Or rather, she didn't push the Doctor to talk. They just sat there, silently.

The Doctor held her hand. Beatrice squeezed it.

"Isaac's…" the Doctor's voice was thick.

Beatrice interrupted him; "I know."

* * *

Sorry for not updating this last week lmao, the last month of school is just…. Hell. i have so much to do. Please help me.

Also on that topic i don't think i'll be able 2 update for the next month or so? APRIL FOOLS yeah that's not a joke im sorry lmao i really have a lot to do and i'm a writing major so it's just straight essays and presentations. One of my profs is also leaving the country next week like…. For the rest of the semester? So i gotta get my essay in to him before he LEAVES THE COUNTRY

Imagine not wanting to grade papers so bad u just,,,, leave the country. Wow.

Reviews:

That's Balderdash - Yeah, hahah, she defs has like. General ideas of things? Hmm, but something else might be going on. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Alikai - yeah something's defs wrong with beatrice! The doctor definitely knows, but given beatrice's reaction to the last 'big revelation,' it's gonna be a little bit until he tells her. I liked the point you made about the doctor and amy though! I was basing his reactions more on the whole 'is amy is amy not pregnant, hmm maybe i just won't tell her' shit. Not cool, doc. Thank you for the review tho, really! I live for big feedback like this.

Notary Sojac - I'm glad that Beatrice is relatable! I was worried people would think her a little too annoying lmao.


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